A Whole New World
by TheLastOneHome
Summary: After finding the Xbox on yet again after a long night of working, Izzy is pulled into the world of Fable. Clumsy, blunt and a little strange, Izzy must survive the world of Fable to meet her destiny or die in the process. With no clue on how to use her supposed hero powers to help save Albion, she must look to a roguish, soldier called Ben Finn for help. Contains mature themes.
1. A Whole New World

Chapter One

A Whole New World

_**So, here it goes. I always wanted to do a fanfic in which someone falls in from our world into Fable, I was a bit iffy at first but thought what the hell what do I have to lose. So I hope you enjoy it, don't own Fable or Ben Finn (sadly). My OC is my own creation so lets all get a nice cup of tea and have a read. Also, a bit of swearing and maybe naughty scenes later ;).**_

London was silent. Away from the central area with pulsing club music and yelling drunks, the sound of tapping feet could be heard echoing through the barren street. Beneath the yellow street light, Isabella Taylor hobbled her feet throbbing in pain. Her awkward footsteps echoed through the silent street, swallowed by the darkness. The young woman grumbled to herself while about how annoying people were and how they just let you down. Especially when it came to working at a busy pub on a Friday night.

Tiffany, the other bar staff member, decided to call in sick at the last moment. She was always pulling stuff like that but the manager let her get away with it. Playing the ditzy blonde helped in these situations. This led to an eighteen hour shift which apparently birthed the busiest night of the year. Izzy growled in pain, her work shoes rubbing awkwardly against her little toe. An eighteen hour shift which resulted in four drunken men old enough to be her father offer her a night to remember, having a pitcher of beer spilled on her and someone throwing up beside the bar. Today had not been a good day. And then there was the flat.

Four years ago, she thought she had found the love of her life. A sweet guy by the name of Thomas, who promised to be with her always and be the family she never had. Well, up until a year ago when Thomas decided they should start seeing new people. Apparently he didn't feel loved anyone since she kept going out all the time to work leaving his jobless arse playing video games. Izzy sighed staring up at the orange hued sky. She missed the foster home she grew up in. Nestled in a seaside town, the inky black sky peppered with bright stars. The cool sea breeze air would wrap itself around you. Not in London though. A concrete jungle which only offered annoyed passer-by's. At least it was night. Here the song of a thousand footsteps ceased until morning.

Thomas wanted to be here anyway. Said there were better jobs going. Probably wouldn't know honest work if slapped him in the face whilst naked. She flatly refused to move out citing the lease was in her name, Thomas didn't want to live his comfy hole neither. They both agreed he could stay there until he got a job and earned enough money to move out. Five months later he was still there. Playing stupid video game after another saying he had no luck finding a job. Bloody liar.

Izzy slid the key into the rusty lock, blowing a strand of fringe out of the way. Her hair was a short pixie cut with a long fringe that kept falling in front of her left eye. After the whole dumping incident, Izzy cut her usual long hair into small bobs and now this new cut. Thomas always said he liked long hair on a girl. In a small way it was a big 'fuck you' to her former lover.

"It looks nice though," she whispered, limping though the dark hallway. Everything in the flat was silent. The hallway was a mess again, stray letters and rubbish littered all over the place.

For someone who didn't have a job, the least Thomas could do is keep the flat tidy. Izzy sighed wishing she could start all over again. Escape this stupid city and find the perfect guy. If one exists of course. A blue light poured out from the living room. Izzy sighed moving towards it. Sure enough some title screen was on, her ex-boyfriend having forgotten to turn it off again. Upstairs the faint sound of snoring could be heard from the second bedroom, they really fought over who would stay in the master bedroom. Of course, half time she came back from work Thomas was still playing some annoying game. The TV buzzed, displaying the title screen from some game named 'Fable'.

"I don't ask for much," she grumbled keeping up the Xbox controller and pushing the centre button.

"Our journey begins," came the starter voice from the game. Izzy squinted at the screen trying to see where to shut the damn thing up. Fable vanished from the screen, a white fog replacing it. She just wanted to go to bed. No work tomorrow, a nice warm bed to lie in on and she could attempt to forget her troubles again.

"Destiny awaits," came the voice.

"I don't want bloody destiny, I want to watch Doctor Who and then curl up in a ball," said Izzy, pressing all the buttons.

"Isabella Taylor," said the voice of the game. She paused, the controller slipping from her fingers. A cold sensation jetted around her body.

"Today you walk a new path, a path of destiny, a path of heroes. A new world awaits you,"

Before she could react or even scream, a white light poured into the living room, blinding her until darkness swiftly followed.

OooooOOOOooooo

It's smelt of earth after rain… petrichor, the musty smell that told you the earth was alive with a scent. The faint tapping for rain could be heard drumming against the ground. It felt rather chilly. Izzy groaned hoping Thomas hadn't left the bloody window open again. The damp in the flat wasn't bad but she didn't want it getting any worse. The landlord was already getting huffy about the untidy nature of his property; adding the damp problem would cause more arguments. She curled up on her side trying to reach her duvet to pull it further on. It wasn't there. The mattress also left really squishy, like it had absorbed a lot of water.

_Did I kick it off_, she thought, slowly opening her eyes. Her head felt fuzzy like she'd been drinking. Letting out a small yelp, she bolted upright, fully awake now. This wasn't her home, this wasn't even indoors. Somehow, she had managed to wake up in a graveyard. Then the memories of what happened in the living room came back.

"Oh fuck all kinds of duck," she breathed, pulled her jumper around her. At least she wasn't in her night clothes and still in her work ones. They provided a small amount of heat. The place stank. An unpleasant stench of bog water, mud and death. It filtered throughout the dreary place, attaching itself to anything nearby. All the gravestones were either broken or had been chipped away at.

Izzy noticed she was lying under a gnarled tree that shielded her from the rain pouring over the graves. It was desolate, barely any signs of life, not even a hint of anyone visiting the graves. The rain continued to hammer down making no hint that it would soon. It sucked out the remaining colour from the world making it seem bleak and depressing. The other trees hung low their claw like branches scrapping at the dull earth.

"How the fuck did I even get here?" Izzy asked aloud, her throat feeling dry and horrible. No sign of life nearby or any form of signpost telling her which way to go for civilisation.

"Well, this sucks," she commented, peering out from under the tree. There were paths leading towards more woods. No clear path anywhere, just graves and scarecrows.

"Why would they have a scarecrow in a graveyard," questioned Izzy, mentally kicking herself for speaking out loud. That was the first sign of going crazy. Then again she had woken up in a strange place in the middle of nowhere after the whole game incident. The scarecrow sagged against its post, limbs loose and barely remaining upright. Stupid place to put the thing anyway. People would be freaked out by graveyard; the scarecrow just added a more unnerving nature. She squinted through the rain trying to make out its features. Was that a skull for a head? A faint moaning could be heard nearby. Izzy jumped peering through the cascading rain.

"Hello," she called "fuck, don't say that. People who say hello in horror movies die."

The moans continued getting closer. The scarecrow lunged forward claw like hand reaching out for the young woman. Izzy screamed falling backwards, landing harshly against the earth, mud coating itself over her body.

Skeletons wielding rather nasty weapons powered towards her, their undead status not interfering with any motor functions.

"This has to be a dream," she whispered, a bullet whistled passed her ear gently grazing her cheek. Izzy poked the cut, feeling a small amount of blood ooze through. It started to sting. "Ok. Not a dream."

Another undead fell forward trying to gut her with a rusty sword. Izzy dived to the side, watching as the blade was buried in the earth. The skeleton roared wrenching it out the earth once more. Without wasting another moment, Izzy scrambled upwards hoping she was faster than a dead man. Her legs were still stiff from the night before but life or death made her ignore the protests. The undead soldiers followed, their loose bits of armour clanging against their bones.

"Why, why, why, why, why?" panted Izzy, pushing aside branches as she ran into the forest hoping it would cause the undead some trouble. Branches scrapped at her clothes tearing them and leaving small scratches on her skin. Blood oozed to the surface but she continued through. It was like the trees themselves were trying to stop her escaping a grisly death. The rain poured harder blocking any clear view of safety. Heart pounding against her chest, with laboured breathes she continued on. Until a stray root caught her around the ankle, tripping her up. The undead moans came closer again.

"I don't want to die," she sobbed, feeling hopless, trying to stand but slipping on the wet earth.

"Grab the sword," said a faint voice. She looked up, fear, confusion and hopelessness pumping through her body. Nestled in a tree not far from her, was a sword coated in moss and trees vines. It stuck out from the tree, its hilt completely free, begging someone to pull it out.

"Better than nothing," she said, crawling forward. The skeletons circled their prey waiting for the right moment to strike.

Not one to give up easily, Izzy staggered forward wrapping her fingers around the hilt and tugging it with all her might. The sword slipped out, a white light bursting forth disintegrating the nearby dead men. The light travelled down her left arm, strips of leather growing around it forming a gaudlet of some sort. The light continued to course across her whole body until it slowly faded leaving her standing in the forest alone. Even the rain began to die down a little.

"That sorted problem number one," said Izzy, hands shaking from the access adrenaline. The sword gleamed in the grey light giving her a silver grin as the last pieces of moss fell from it. The bones of the skeleton warriors lay motionless on the floor, a few turning into nothing but dust. Shakily standing upright she started to wander down the clearest path. The rain soon stopped leaving behind the sodden earth that squelched with each step. The faint smell of smoke filtered into her nostrils. Exhausted, annoyed and lonely, she followed it hoping it would lead someone nicer. The forest was thick with vegetation, the low hanging trees themselves looking like they had given up all hope. This wasn't a pleasant place to be. Izzy knew she should probably be freaking out by now. But somehow it didn't feel helpful. It would add to the list of growing problems. Crying wouldn't help either; it would just result in puffy eyes and runny nose. The smoke smell got closer until, through the warped forest branches; she could see some form of fort.

"Oh please be populated by an army of Tom Hiddlestons," she said, dragging her aching feet forward. It didn't seem all that impressive. Just a random building in the middle of nowhere. It was still better than nothing. The sword weighed heavy in her hands as she looked up at the brown gates. Thankfully it had dealt most the damage to the undead; otherwise, she had no idea how to use it. She thought about knocking but that seemed a little silly.

"Hello," she called, feeling even more silly than knocking.

_In the fort_

"Did you hear something Swiftie?" asked Ben Finn, stopping his shooting practise. Major Swift paused for a moment listening out. It was so much easier to listen for the enemy now that blasted rain had stopped.

"Hello," called a faint voice.

"Aren't most of the men out on a scouting mission?" said Swift, feeling irked that some fool was calling out. Although the hollow men didn't usually appear until now, there was always a risk.

"It's only you, me and Jammy but he's a sleep after the last wound," answered Ben. The duo looked at each other confused. Barely anyone came to this god forsaken place. The men knew which entrance to use, how to get in and out without using the front gate. Why would someone appear now?

"Go see who it is, there's a good lad," said Swift, puffing more smoke from his pipe. Ben shrugged, strolling up towards the lookout post. A little excitement or a new face would probably liven up the place. He looked through the hole. Down on the water infested ground was a girl. That certainly did surprise him. She was covered in mud, scratches and holding a rather speculate sword. Her short dark hair was sticking up in awkward clumps and looked dead on her feet.

"Oi, Swiftie, there's a girl down there," he yelled.

"A what?"

"A girl, you know, those nice smelling creatures with boobs,"

"Shut up Ben, I know what a girl is. I was confused on why one was here,"

Ben popped his head the opening and yelled down to the girl who paced uneasily around the entrance.

"Oi, what are you doing out there?" he shouted. The girl looked up, pale skin streaked with mud and blood. Her forget-me-not blue eyes flashed with annoyance.

"Doing the tango, what do you bloody think?" she snapped back. "I woke up in a strange place, lost, got attacked by the cast of Thriller and now I'm being asked stupid questions."

Ben chuckled a little confused on what a 'Thriller' was. Some form of new play out in the great city? At least her manner ruled out any unpleasant suspicions. Bandits rarely came to this place and even then, they knew better than to take on a fort.

"Alright calm down, I'm opening up the gate, so you'll be safe."

The girl dragged herself through the gate, Swift quickly reached forward, hoisting her up and placing her on a nearby chair.

"Are you alright dear? No fatal injuries?" asked the Major, staring at the girls strange but torn clothes. He hadn't seen anything like them anywhere in Albion before nor some of the fabric.

"No just a couple of scratches," she answered, running a finger over the cut on her cheek.

"What's your name?" asked Swift, kicking aside a few empty mugs and pulling out some ointment from a nearby box.

"Isabella Taylor. Izzy for short,"

"Very good, I am Major Swift and this is Captain Finn. Ignore most things he says,"

Ben strode over noting that all her clothes were torn and drenched in rain and mud. She shivered clutching tightly to her sword.

"You can let go of that, no one's going to hurt you here," said Ben, trying to find the smallest uniform in the pile of spares. Hopefully this was the clean pile. Then again the smell of Mourningwood made sure you never knew what was clean or not. Swift gently rubbed the ointment on the cuts while Izzy slowly released the sword.

"Don't know how to use it anyway," she admitted.

"Why have you got it then?" asked Ben, raising a quizzing eyebrow.

"It was the only thing between me and those skeletons. Found it in a tree, some voice told me to take it," explained Izzy, feeling uneasy.

She had seen Thomas play this game, Fable, before. She hadn't seen much only a few cut scenes but these guys were in some of them. Swift looked like a nice gentlemen, had a very impressive moustache. He appeared stern but gently cleaned up the cuts. Being a Major probably met giving a glare or two to keep the men in line. Ben Finn on the other hand smiled at her as if she was a surprise present. His blue eyes glinted in nearby firelight. This guy was clearly the joker of the camp.

"What the tree near the graveyard?" asked Swift, pausing from cleaning the cuts.

"Uh, I believe so,"

The men exchanged a worried glance.

"What? Did I do something wrong?" she asked, growing concerned.

"Not exactly, it's just, well only Heroes were said to be able to pull out that sword," answered Ben, looking down at the silver blade.

"Oh," said Izzy, paling further.

"So… Are you a Hero?" asked Swift, finishing off the cleaning duty and going back to smoking his pipe. Izzy shrugged looking nervous.

"I… I don't know, I just woke up in the graveyard and those zombie things attacked," She said.

"You don't remember anything from before?" asked Swift.

_Yeah, sure, the fact I'm from a world that this is just a game and you're nothing but a collection of data, let's go with amnesia _thought Izzy.

"I can only remember my name," she lied, hoping the two men wouldn't pick up on it.

"Poor sod, we can't send her off anywhere," said Ben "plus we can't really spare any men to take her." Major Swift raised an eyebrow at the Captain starting to see what he was proposing.

"You suggest a young woman stay here in a camp full of men who haven't seen one in months,"

"Well, no offense to her but she has short enough hair and with this uniform, the lads won't be able to tell if she's a he or not,"

"You do come up with daft plans Ben,"

"She can stay in my tent with me,"

"Now that's a stupid idea,"

"You wound me sir, I wouldn't take advantage of a maiden so,"

Swift glanced over at Izzy then back to Ben. Finally he shook his head and stood up walking over towards a barrel. He poured a drink, chugging it down.

"Fine but you train her and make sure nothing happens to her. We could do with a Hero around here," said Swift before walking over to his own tent.

Ben threw the uniform at Izzy, hitting her square in the face.

"Go change in the tent over there, the lads will be back soon. Your name is Isaac Taylor and your my new assistant, got that?" explained Ben.

"Uh, sure," she answered, picking up her sword and the clothes.

"Oh and Izzy,"

She turned.

"Welcome to Mourningwood,"

_**Ah, all the fun of hollow men and rather dashing soldiers. Hope you enjoyed that chapter, more to come and more to find out. Until next time.**_

_**TheLastOneHome**_


	2. That Makes Sense… Right?

Chapter Two

That Makes Sense… Right?

_**I'm back, with another maybe slightly more thrilling chapter. As stated before, I don't own any part of the Fable Universe (to my disappointment). Now on with the show!**_

There were tents scattered around the entire fort flapping in the faint, stale breeze unoccupied as the remaining soldiers were out checking the local area. Izzy could tell the tent beside the forts back entrance belonged to Ben before he even pointed it out. It was something about the poster of the naked woman straddling a cannon that gave it away. She entered it, placing the bedroll Major Swift had given her far away from Ben's. It was nice that the two men had let her stay in the fort (even if disguised) but there was a glint the Captains eye she didn't quite trust.

Peeling off the rain sodden, muddy clothes, Izzy took a moment to stare at the gaudlet that had literally grown on her arm. It wasn't anything special, a simple brown colour with some sort of orange crystal in the palm.

"I wonder what you're for?" she questioned, running a finger down it. Barely blemished, the gaudlet gave off a small vibration as if it were alive and happy about being stroked.

"Hey Swift says you- oops," said Ben, coming into the tent abruptly. Izzy was semi naked, back turned he could only see her backside. And what a delightful site it was. The newcomer screeched picked up one of her stray shoes and threw it at the captain. He ran out laughing the shoe connecting with the back of his blonde head.

Ben chuckled outside, thinking it sad that he didn't get to see anymore. She was delightful but sadly lacked a few curves being almost a straight like a washboard. Still the only he had seen in months. Well, the travelling salesman's wife had been there a few weeks ago, gave discounts to all the men after their night together. However, threatened to chop off his manhood if he continued seducing peopled wives.

"Sorry, didn't know you still changing, Swift says to rest for a while since you look tired, I'll come wake you when the other men get back," said Ben, standing beside the tent flap and trying not to peek in again.

"Thanks for that. Now fuck off," said Izzy, highly annoyed the Captains tactics at trying to see her naked. Doors and locks were things from her previous life she was beginning to miss. She quickly pulled on the uniform ignoring how big it was and roughed up her already messy hair some more. Lying down on the scratchy bedroll fabric, Izzy curled up into a ball, closed her eyes and try not to think about how utterly lost she was.

ooOOooooOOOoo

This time it was a dream. It had that slow moving feel to it, where you try and run fast but can't. A thin white fog floated around the place, rolling and out like a persistent uninvited guest. Izzy could tell she was standing some tower. It had black obsidian textured walls which faintly reflected her image. It was like seeing ghosts in the walls, moving but never getting anywhere. Outside she could see the vast, endless silver surface of the sea. Great another place she was lost in.

"Welcome to the Spire Isabelle," came a voice from behind her. She turned squinting through the fog at a woman clad in red. Pearly white eyes could be seen under the hood.

"You're the voice from the game," said Izzy starting to feel annoyed at the blind woman.

"I am the one who also brought you here, I am Theresa, your guide to this world," she answered smiling lightly. The young woman scowled.

"And why am I here?"

"Because you are a hero,"

Izzy gave an unattractive snort then remembered where she was and anything at this point was possible. Maybe even unicorns. Or was that too far?

"How am I a hero? I'm a waitress/bartender living in a crappy flat with a stupid ex and escape by watching sci-fi," she stated, refusing to believe her life was destined for anything remotely exciting.

"Your ancestors came from our world to the one you were born in. There was a war many years ago and many hero bloodlines perished. But yours found a way to escape the slaughter and grow in a different world. You are the last of that blood line," explained the blind women. Izzy chewed her bottom lip. World jumping? It seemed silly to think about it but it was entirely possible.

"How did I get back then? Why is a game in my world?"

"Magic. I pulled you back by the use of a very old magic. These games you speak of… I would say they are echoes of memories formed together creating a new link between this world and the one you grew up in,"

"Yup, makes total sense,"

"I thought so,"

"I was being sarcastic."

Theresa appeared annoyed at the young, new hero who stood boldly in front of her without flinching. Most Heroes would listen to what she had to say without question or simply follow her blindly into battle.

"So, why am I here?" asked Izzy.

"You are here to prevent this world from being destroyed. You will meet with another hero and you will progress each other's destinies,"

"No getting out of this is there?"

"No,"

"Worth ago,"

The two stood in an awkward silence whilst Izzy processed the information. Her family… a lost line of heroes? It still seemed so silly. She vaguely remembered her parents. A few smiles here and there, a soft voice calling her name and a big pair of hands lifting her high into the sky. Then it was all gone and she was alone in a foster home. They had died in a car accident or so she was told. With no family left in the world, Izzy was alone. Maybe being stuck in a supposed game wasn't such a bad swap after all.

"What do I have to do?" she asked, finally coming to a conclusion. Make the best of what you've got.

"You must help another hero meet their destiny in order to meet yours. You must save Albion. You must become the hero you were born to be," instructed Theresa.

"Makes it sound like I don't any other options,"

"You don't,"

"Always the optimist and I suppose the sword I pulled from the tree is meant to help,"

"It is merely a sign of your heroic linage, our time is coming to an end now, till meet again Isabella Taylor"

The fog began to thicken rapidly around as the blind woman walked away from the new human. There more questions to ask. However, she doubted she would get a straight answer. How the hell was she meant to be a hero if she didn't know anything about them? Or even possess the ability to fight. Izzy sighed as the fog quickly enveloped her. In the new real world, someone was calling her name.

OOooooOOOoo

Ben Finn stood over the new recruit with a lopsided smile, gently calling out her name. She groaned rolling to the side and hid under the moth eaten blanket. One hand pawed outside as if looking for something turn off.

"Five more minutes," grumbled the moth eaten blanket. The Captain laughed, bending down beside it.

"I guess I'll have to kiss the maiden fair to wake her," he said.

Izzy sat bolt upright almost head butting the blonde soldier, she looked highly annoyed, slightly bloodshot eyes glaring at him. He quickly kissed her pale cheek, ducking backwards before getting another shoe to the face. It amused him that she went a deep scarlet colour and struggled to say anything out of shock.

"Come on, the other lads will be back soon, the Major wants you wide awake," said Ben, chuckling at the young woman's expression. She grumbled some more, tackling out the thin blanket and stood up, brushing off the uniform she'd been given.

Outside the clouds were gathered around the fort like they were trying to make it collapse from sheer will itself. The sky seemed to always be an angry grey colour, offended that anything living walked the soggy earth below. Major Swift stood beside the back entrance smoking his pipe and beside him stood a soldier who appeared to be held together by the bandages wrapped around his limbs.

"Ah, good lad, you're up. Need to run over a few things before the others report back scouting mission, said the Major, smiling kindly at the young woman in disguise. The man beside him looked the new recruit up and down then shrugged.

"This is Private Jammy, luckiest soldier in all of Albion, seven hundred and twenty-three wounds and still going," proclaimed the Major staring down at Jammy in a sort of proud manner.

"Nice to meet you lad," said Jammy, poking at his head wound as it were more fascinating than the conversation he was having. Ben looked over at Izzy, noticing the uniform didn't fit the petite girl. The arms bypassed her hands, the white shirt hanging above her knees and the coat… that was the smallest uniform they had.

"Now, I want to cook the lad's lunch and once that's done, report to Captain Finn for shooting lessons," said the Major, puffing on his pipe "is that clear."

"Yes sir," said Izzy unsure whether not she was meant to salute. But the Major laughed, clapped her on the back and walked off towards his tent without another word.

"Ben, where is everything?" she asked, starting to panic. How many men were there? Not many by the amount of graves compared to tents.

"Come on I'll take you there," he said, gesturing over towards a browning tent that looked like it was going to collapse any moment.

"The camp cook died about three nights back, we ran out of stale bread and biscuits last night, so whatever you cook should be an improvement," said the Captain, ducking inside the tent. Izzy followed, impressed by how tidy inside was.

"Cooking pot outside, luckily cleaned before the chefs untimely demise, the water well is just beside the tent and whatever you see in the sacks will suffice for dinner," he explained, watching as Izzy walked over to the sacks and peeked inside. It didn't look very promising. Plus any remnants of a modern kitchen were lost when she got pulled into this world.

"You know, I could help out if we," he stood behind Izzy placing his hands on her hips "exchanged services."

"Shut up Ben," snapped Izzy, elbowing him in the gut before pulling a sack of potatoes forward. The Captain chuckled, clutched his side and left. Hopefully she could cook or her pride would be the end of the new hero. In fact, Izzy did know how to cook, knowing how to make meals from basically nothing. Thomas never did the shopping when they ran low, Izzy ended up most nights trying to make something out of an odd combination of foods. Damn lazy git. At least he was in an entirely different world now. That was taking a whole new meaning to someone needing space. After Izzy took out the things she needed, she headed outside and began filling the pot with water. The pot came up to her waist, boasting of its ability to feed an army.

Sadly, matches were nowhere to be found in order in light a fire. She didn't want to disturb the Major, Jammy didn't seem to care and Ben would ask for something in exchange. It seemed hopeless.

"Oh sod it," she hissed.

Sparks flew out from the gaudlet landing in the fire wood below. Izzy frowned staring down at it. The orange jewel in the centre glowed brighter than before. She lifted her hand aiming at the gathered fire wood then directed some form of power out. A small fireball burst forth, landed and quickly began burning away. She looked at the gaudlet amazed.

"Well, that worked," she said in an awed manner. She busied herself with peeling the vegetables and potatoes while the water came to a boil. Outside the sounds of faint commanding shouts could be heard. Through the back entrance of the fort, man began pouring in. Only fourteen or so led by a mountain man. He easily stood about seven foot and was just about equally wide. The others gazed over curiously at the young lad peeling potatoes with a bucket full of vegetables at his feet. The mountain man glared for a moment then went over to Major Swift's tent.

"Ah, Lieutenant Simmons, good to see you back and in one piece, how did the scouting mission go?" asked the Major, looking over a crude map of Albion.

"Very well, sir. A few hollow men around the graveyard and a few bandits hidden on the outskirts but nothing too bad. We dealt with them with no casualties," rumbled the taller man.

"Very good Simmons, hopefully we won't see much activity tonight,"

"Sir?"

"Yes Simmons,"

"Who is the new recruit?"

The Major slapped his forehead in embarrassment having forgotten all about the new lad that sat outside preparing lunch.

"Yes, sorry old chap. Found the poor lad standing outside calling for help. Said he woke up in this Avo forsaken place with no memory other than his name. Since we can't spare the resources to take him to the nearest town, Ben has taken him on as a new private and will be training him," explained the Major, Simmons massive head nodded, making it clear he understood. They walked outside and stared over the new recruit. 'He' was carefully keeping an eye on the stew 'he' was making while the other men watched 'him' with curious eyes.

"How long till lunch lad?" Swift yelled over. The lad looked up. Even though his face was streaked with mud and blood, it had a soft nature to it. His eyes were big and blue drawing Simmons in.

"About another twenty minutes, sir," he shouted back, his voice sounded like he had a cold.

"Hopefully he'll survive this place," said Swift, taking a seat beside the Captain who was shuffling a pack of cards.

"It's all about chance and choices Swiftie my friend. Anyone of us could be kicking the bucket anytime soon," said Ben, nodding a greeting at Simmons. The two didn't like each other much but when you're a small space and relying on another man to watch your back, you tend to keep personal feelings out.

"Shut up Ben, nobody likes a pessimist," said Swift, patting his Captain lightly on the shoulder. The two had been through many ordeals together, looking upon each other almost like father and son. Although Ben used to have a high problem with authority, he always listened to Swift.

"He's a bit pretty for a boy," stated Simmons, observing the new recruit panic over the water beginning to seep out from the pot.

"Didn't know you swung that way Simmons,"

"Shut up Finn,"

The two men exchanged hostile glares while the older man merely shook his head.

"Avo blessed him with delicate features. Some women like that," stated Swift.

"Delicate won't get him far in the army,"

"Maybe he'll surprise us all,"

The trio sat in silence for a few seconds before starting up a new subject of tactics and fighting off the nightly hordes of hollow men.

Soon lunch was ready; Izzy was shaking a little, sweat clinging to her palms. It wasn't much. It was only carrots, potatoes, swede, mushrooms and some thyme to add a little kick. Hopefully that would be enough to satisfy the men of the camp. She really didn't want to give them a reason to dislike her. They gathered there bowls filled it up and quickly began eating. A few complained about not having any meat in it but Swift asked if they wanted to go hunt for meat which shut them up. After they were down, everyone cleaned their own things, singing a song which Izzy suspected was about a whore. Something about a high painted smile and the mention of a back alley hinted this.

"Well done pretty boy, you managed to make the mundane quite tasty," said one soldier clapping her on back. Izzy really started to wonder why everyone kept doing that. Were hugs illegal here?

"The names Jefferson, if you're free you can come play a few rounds with us," said the red headed soldier pointing at a few men gathered around dealing out battered cards.

"Sorry, no leisure time for the new recruit got to teach him how to shoot," said Ben, grabbing her upper arm and dragging towards the forts back entrance. She scowled up at Ben who seemed to be enjoying himself immensely over his continuous harassment of her. They stood just outside the fort, where crude dummies were set up. The Captain handed over a gun to Izzy who stared at it in a perplexed manner.

"Now today, we learn from one of Albion's finest in the art of shooting," proclaimed Ben. The young hero swallowed nervously. This was going to be a long day.

_**So, Ben likes to harass women a little. I decided to explore the character of Simmons as he is already dead before the Hero gets to meet him. I wonder how Izzy will deal with him. Or Ben for that matter. Until next time dear readers.**_

_**TheLastOneHome**_


	3. Safety First

Chapter Three

Safety First

_**Well, I'm back. Can't rid of me. Just a small note before continuing, Ben is a bit of a womanising jackass in a few chapters ahead, although he is a nice man, I thought to explore that side a bit more. Also, mature content but probably not what you're thinking… just read… Enjoy all the same.**_

They started by practising with peas. Since supplies to the fort were infrequent and rare, they needed to save on all the bullets they had. Soon the fairly rusty gun Izzy was given was loaded with peas. They quickly ran over how to reload, aim and shoot before setting her against the dummies. Ben stood beside her staring at her backside before actually instructing her on anything.

"Right – no don't hold the gun like that. It's not going to bite," said the Captain, fixing Izzy's hand so she wouldn't drop the gun as soon as it would fire.

"I want you to aim at the targets over there and see if you can hit the head, middle and heart," instructed Ben. She stood before the poorly made straw men holding out the gun as if it was going to explode any moment. The straw men had crudely draw faces as if that were meant to frowns but just looked sad.

"Go on, fire," said the Captain, tapping his foot impatiently. The young woman fired, the pea barely grazing the straw man's arm. It bounced off in a pathetic manner, rolling into the muddy ground.

"Well, that wasn't at all like a hero," said Ben, remembering how the old king could fell a man in one shot.

"Hey I'm new to this," she snapped.

"Yes, but you're over thinking it. When an enemy comes towards you, you shot, you don't ask questions, feel remorse or have a moral conflict because they are out to kill you, now shoot again," explained the soldier.

Izzy tried once more, managing to clip the targets ear and shoulder. This went on for another ten minutes without much improvement. She could hear the heavy sighs from behind. Apparently being new to this wasn't good enough, if you're a hero, you instantly had to know everything. Izzy tried to calm herself from these thoughts before becoming overly annoyed by thinking of Doctor Who. Then she remembered that now being in a different world she'd never get to watch another episode. This resulted in more annoyance. A hand overlapped hers, gently lifting the gun up a little bit more. She tried not to flush dramatically as Ben pressed himself against her, lips an inch away from her ear.

"You have to keep both eyes wide open, think of where you want to aim," he said, his hot breath tickling her ear, lips brushing it gently. His free hand travelled down her side, resting on her hip, pulling her a little closer. Izzy flushed with embarrassment wanting him to stop but continue at the same time.

"When the enemy approaches, you picture where you want to hit and then fire," he whispered, gently nibbling the ear before him and cupping her rear. She shot twice, one pea bouncing off the head and another off the groin. Pulling away, her cheeks burnt bright red and scowling up at the Captain once more.

"Could you please stop doing that?" she growled, placing a hand over her ear. Ben smiled. This was quite the challenge; the thrill of the chase was just too tempting to back down from. Many women jumped at the chance to bed Ben Finn hearing all sorts of promising things about him. Those were the easy ones though. Girls he had to chase were so much more satisfying. Truthfully, he couldn't tell how old Izzy was but she seemed to be over eighteen. Maybe with all the muck wiped away she would be more feminine and more grown up. He would have to wait until they out the fort to see that. Although he trusted all the men inside the fort with his life, if they discovered the recruit was a girl… Ben didn't want to think about that.

They continued a few more rounds shooting, Izzy slowly improving. Very slowly. It wasn't as quick as Ben thought but even he knew that the old king hadn't become a hero overnight. He had become a hero through practise and determination. Growing up in a gypsy camp were bandits attacked every other week sure helped with practise. That's what the new hero needed. The hordes of hollow men would provide a lively amount of action for them. He pondered over Izzy's heritage. Possibly being the hero kings bastard daughter. Then again, the old king had really loved the woman he'd married so that theory would sit on the shelf. Plus her eyes were a bright blue whilst the old kings, Logan's and the princes were all brown.

Ben looked up at the sky, seeing the sun dip between the tall trees of the forest. Soon they would under siege once more.

"Ok then, prove you can hit the head and we'll quit for today. But each time you miss, I get to kiss you," he said, watching as Izzy's face paled. Honestly she acted like he was offering to throw up on her shoes. Without hesitation, Izzy aimed for head, middle and groin, hitting them all. Apparently she performed better under pressure.

"Hmm almost as good as I am," murmured Ben.

"Seriously? If your head got any bigger I wouldn't have to aim,"

"Ouch that hurts, come kiss my wounded heart better,"

"I think I'm aiming at the wrong dummy,"

The Captain gave another lopsided grin as they entered the fort, closing the back entrance behind them.

The men were all playing different card games, betting who would make it through the night. The air was stale with worry that the men tried to hide. Apparently it was mandatory to be overly manly in the Swift Brigade. Laughing in the face of danger instead running away and waiting for it to go. Simmons's eyes followed Izzy as she trudged across the fort, tripping up over a stray chair. She tended to walk into things a lot or say hello to the floor without meaning to. A few men were already betting the new lad dubbed 'pretty boy' wouldn't last the night. To clumsy, to delicate, too much of an over thinker for the Swift Brigade.

"You alright there lad?" asked Jammy, applying a fresh bandage over his arm. Jefferson was beside him unwrapping a bandage on his fellow soldier's foot. It looked like the uninjured soldier had lost a bet.

"Yeah, just getting used to shooting," answered Izzy, watching as Ben went to join Swift and Simmons. The mountain continued to stare at her in an uncomfortable manner.

"Finn's the best shooter in the Brigade, no one can out do the captain," said Jefferson, quickly throwing the foot bandage over his shoulder.

"Is that so?" she said, not really caring. If Ben's ego got any bigger they would all be pulled in.

"Yup, you're good hands lad; soon you'll be shooting hollow men with ease,"

"Hollow men?"

"You don't know what those are?"

"The skeleton things that attacked me in the graveyard,"

"Oh that's right, you've got that memory loss thing,"

The two soldiers exchanged sad looks before turning them on easy. It prompted her confess she didn't really forget everything but explaining how she came to be in Mourningwood would be more difficult.

"That's right, I barely know anything," she said. Jammy sadly gripped her shoulder, smiling in a reassuring way. Kind of made him look like he was passing gas rather than supporting someone.

"It's alright lad, we've all got our problems. Jefferson recently divorced wife, was cheating on him with the blacksmith," said Jammy. Jefferson looked like he wanted to give Jammy another wound.

"Oh sorry to hear that,"

"Don't worry about it, she got abandoned by her lover and now lives on the street as a whore," explained the soldier, smiling a little at the universes way of justice.

Not wanting to continue that particular conversation, Izzy excused herself and went to talk to the major who seemed to be glued to pipe. She hadn't seen him put it down once.

"Ah, the new lad. How was your first shooting lesson?" asked Swift, smiling at her.

"Very… informative," she answered trying not to look at the smiling buffoon beside her. Simmons continued to stare without any hint of letting up any time some. The mountain soldier scared her a little bit. Ben always had a mischievous glint in his eye, while the lieutenant looked like he was ready to eat her. She stared at the Majors moustache, seeming to be the best bet at this point.

"Hmm, I hope Captain taught you something worthwhile and not the art of seduction, we need fighters not lovers," said Swift, looking at the Captain who sheepishly shrugged.

"I'll keep that in mind sir," she said getting up. Simmons was making her really uncomfortable. Maybe a quick rest in the tent would be a good idea. The grey sunlight still peeked out from over the trees and through the clouds. It wasn't quite time to face a horde of the undead but it was better to be prepared. Mourningwood's smells seemed to seep into everything seemingly becoming an entity of its own. Even being in a camp full of sweaty soldiers, you couldn't tell the difference between what mortal stench and marsh stench was. It appeared to roll into one.

Izzy ducked inside the tent and lay down on the bedroll. She wished for a book of some sort. That would possibly cure the boredom. Depending on what it was of course, if something like Twilight made it into this world; she might just let a hollow man gut her out of pure principle. Leaning against the deflated pillow she closed her eyes thinking about the things she missed. Bitching about things seemed like a luxury now. Even watching day time TV was beginning to become a craving. Watching people yell at who cheated on who made her life seem so much better. This world didn't seem so bad compared to the life she used to have. Sure, the high possibility of dying each night, no heating or electricity added a bum note to the new world but it was better than being in a dead end job. She wondered if Thomas had noticed if she'd gone missing yet. There wasn't really anyone to care about it back in that world. Sure, she had friends but that's all they were, they came and went. They would mourn the absence and then move on. She sighed, beginning to find the whole subject rather depressing.

A brief wind came into the tent, running its cold hand over Izzy's cheek. Footsteps paced through, briefly stopping at the flap as if to check inside the tent before entering. She suspected it was Ben, coming into disturb her once more. Maybe lying down and appearing to sleep would make him bugger off. Highly doubtful but it was worth ago. Plus if he didn't stop, she could just slap him. Peering out from under her eyelashes, she saw two monstrous boots stand at the foot of the bedroll. Those weren't Bens. He didn't have tree trunks for legs either. The figure bent down face obscured by her half open eye lashes. What the hell was this person doing? A hand crept up her leg, crawling up like a huge spider, sausage fingers tracing down the white linen pants. This was just weird now. She opened her eyes to see Simmons knelt over her, looking at her legs like they were an early Christmas present.

"What the hell-" she began before a large hand covered it. It smelt off blood and earth.

"Shhh, it'll be fine. You're the nearest thing I've seen to a woman in so long, I – I've forgotten what it's like to be with one, we'll keep this between us, boy" he said, green eyes staring at her intently. The lieutenant slid a hand under the baggy trousers at the ankle, running a sweaty over the skin. His hand carefully travelled up her leg trying to force her to lay on her front with the other hand.

"So delicate," he said, starting to tug at the trousers. Fear wrapped its clammy hands around her heart, squeezing it into action. Before this could go any further, she lifted up the gaudlet clad hand, pressing it into Simmons's arm and poured whatever power she had into getting the mountain off her. The fire sprang to life, coursing through her veins and tunnelling itself out the orange gem. Simmons cried out in agony as the fire ate away at his arm, burning through the jacket and melting it to the flesh. He back peddled as Izzy scrambled backwards trying not to be utterly terrified. It was hard since a guy three times her size tried to rape her thinking her a very pretty boy who happened to look feminine. Luckily he didn't get too far in finding the truth out. Things would have taken a turn for the worst then.

"You get the fuck away from me," she snarled holding up a fireball engulfed hand. He was a lot bigger and stronger than her. They both knew had the advantage with that. However, she could scream or shout for help now and that wouldn't go down well with the others in the camp.

"I'll cut that arm off one day and fuck you till you bleed boy," said the Lieutenant, lip curling into a snarl. Izzy tried to show her indifference but her heart was beating so hard against her chest, she wasn't surprised Simmons couldn't hear it.

"Not before I run a sword through your skull," she replied, sticking out her chin to show she wasn't afraid. She was. Utterly terrified of what the bigger man could do anything if he really wanted overpower her. The tent flap opened to have Ben step in and see Simmons clutching his arm which had been badly burnt, the uniform coat now with a handprint shaped hole and singed around the edges. Also, Izzy seemed to be able to summon the power of will like the old king, a fireball burning away in her clenched fist and glaring up at much taller soldier.

"Have I missed something?" he asked, standing beside the recruit and glared at Simmons. He had seen the mountain solider come into the tent shifty gazing around the camp before entering. That set off a few alarm bells. He'd even heard things about the lieutenant from other parts of the army. They weren't pleasant.

"It's nothing," said Simmons, through gritted teeth with one last death glare at Izzy, he ducked out the tent clutching his wounded arm.

Ben turned in time to catch Izzy before she fell onto the cold earth. She shook uncontrollably, the fire dying out from the gaudlet. It faded back into its usual light orange hue, becoming a gently stone once again.

"Oh Ben," she said, wrapping her arms around his shoulders a clinging on for dear life. Getting the gist of what happened just happened; Ben let Izzy hug him, digging her nails into his shoulders.

"Do you want to tell the Major?" asked Ben, gently stroking her back. He felt her shake her head. True, they couldn't lose any more men at this point. If she came forward with accusation, Swift would be forced to execute they man. However, that seemed too good for the lieutenant. It seemed horrible just let him get away with it at the same time. Izzy pulled away, resting her head against Ben's chest.

"What do I do now?" she asked, still trembling slightly. The captain wanted to stroll outside and plant a bullet between the man's eyes right now. They meant to be brothers in arms, fighting side by side and completely trust each other. Not be like some common bandit which cuts their own 'friends' throats for some money or whore.

"I really don't know love," he answered kissing the top of her head. Even through the Mourningwood stench he could smell the faint aroma of flowers from the young woman. Roses to be exact. They sat there in silence listening to the men outside celebrate and shout about the card games. Soon, from the top of the wall, a panicked shout could be heard. A gunshot rang out. Izzy looked at Ben who smiled back in a relaxed way, thinking to stay near her during the fighting. If Simmons took one funny step towards her, he'd… The thought banished as more shots were heard. Izzy stood up, nervously grasping the gun.

"Ready?" he asked.

"Not really,"

"Fair enough, let's go,"

_**So, I made Simmons a tad bit rapey. Oh the drama. Although Ben is womaniser, he does care. Till next time.**_

_**TheLastOneHome**_


	4. Dead Men Walking

Chapter Four

Dead Men Walking

_**Welcome back, hope you enjoyed the last chapter… Anyway, chapter four is finally seeing if Ben's training paid off, enjoy. Thanks to those who have favourite, followed and reviewed, it means a lot. Now, on with the chapter.**_

The hollow men had breached the fort. They sluggishly moved among the soldiers swinging their rusty weapons, bony arms lifting up massive weapons and swinging forward. Blades whistled through the air as the soldiers tried to avoid an early grave, fearful of the demonic dead. A few men had already been felled, their glass eyes looking blankly up at the night sky. Horrible gashes were littered across their bodies from the hollow men's weapons. Most had their throats slit blood staining the forts ground, adding to its already depressing nature. The hollow men were advancing forward, slashing at anyone who was at arm's length.

The other soldiers were trying to avoid their comrades corpses whilst the same time, hold back their grief for a fallen brother. Each time a hollow men was cut down it felt like two more took its place. Each night seemed a little more hopeless than the last. Swift was in the centre of the horde, chopping down the undead like they were made from paper. Ben quickly aimed at a hollow man preparing to stab the Major in the back with a rusty sword. The bullet passed through its dirty skull shattering it. Swift turned nodded his thanks and chopped the head off another hollow man throwing himself into the battle once more.

Izzy clutched the pistol in her hand tightly the fear beginning to take hold again. It was relentless today trying to remind it would always be there. She wasn't used to all this death, having only been in this world for a day and it hadn't been going to well. Three men had already been lost to these mindless beasts lying motionless on the fort floor. Ben cried out as a blade nicked his shoulder. The blood trickled down onto the ground. It joined with the growing lake of death and chaos which seemed to picking up rapidly around the few men that remained. Ignoring her beating heart, she lifted up the pistol hoping to do anything useful.

_Don't over think it. Think about the place you want to hit and pull the trigger_ thought Izzy, lifting up her gun. She squeezed the trigger. The bullet shot passed the mini battle in the centre of the fort, hitting the hollow man about to attack Ben again. The skull fragments rained to the floor as the wisp deserted the bones under its control the blue orb quickly exiting the fort.

The Captain looked over at the new Hero and smiled. She was visibly shaking but continuing on despite it all, even after what only ten minute ago. Jammy cried out, a hollow man sticking its blade in his leg. The young hero darted forward and shot the undead at point blank range then pulled Jammy to the side-lines. The two soldiers nodded at each other in mutual respect before she re-joined the others whilst the forever injured one sat on the side lines shooting what he could. Ben cursed the cut on his shoulder throbbing, blood oozing out at a steady pace. It didn't seem too bad, not a particular deep cut thankfully, the pain would probably be more noticeable when the fighting ceased. He continued shooting backing towards his pupil. Soon, he was back to back with Izzy, surrounded by seven hollow men. The others were too busy with their own fight to help the duo.

"Want to show those undead bastards what we're made of?" asked Ben, reloading his pistol watching as the Hollow men staggered forward. They groaned, trying to sound menacing but came off as a little silly.

"Flesh and blood, maybe a bit of arrogance from you," she replied, quickly reloading the pistol and shooting a nearby undead. It grazed the bony shoulder at first but the second shot did the trick.

"Arrogance? I'm one of the best sharpshooters here," said Ben, shooting a hollow man right between the eye sockets.

"Careful, your pull more undead into your ego orbit," shouted Izzy, rolling over his back and shooting another hollow man.

Ben grabbed her arm and span like they were in some elegant dance rather than a small battle, taking out an undead between their linked arms, then let go making Izzy stubble back. She felt a little dizzy not used to any form of dance, battle style or not. More hollow man gathered towards them. Ben shot two with a single bullet whilst putting his arm around Izzy's waist and lifting her up a little so her toes scrapped the bloody floor.

They span, shooting the circle of hollow men one by one. One arm out stretched as they clung to each of support. The hollow men collapsed into a pile of bones one by one, blindly going forward in the hope they would land at least one hit. No such luck. Izzy grew more confidant with the gun but couldn't handle moving and shooting at a fast pace. She missed a few unable to keep up with the pace of Ben who swiftly dealt with the stray ones. Moving and shooting was something she needed to practise on before the next battle. Soon, the legion of the damned ceased to attack. The murky light of the swamp peered through the trees lighting the damaged fort. It highlighted the spilled blood, making it glisten in its dusty light, the crimson river smiling up at the survivors. Another five men dead including Simmons, which in Izzy's opinion, wasn't a great loss. The mountain had three swords buried in his massive chest and for a moment she wished it had been her that placed at least one there. Izzy stared at his wide opened eyes, looking more annoyed about being dead than sad, resisting the urge to kick the corpse or at least stamp on its face. No need to worry about surprise visits from that guy anymore.

"Come on, we've got to bury them now," said Ben, gently touching her shoulder, not wanting her to linger by the dead. A lot of men were upset about losing their friend and brothers; she looked on the verge on tears. Izzy stood up staring at another lost soldier. Jefferson. The undead had got him right between the eyes with a bullet, poor guy. He had been nice enough. Complimented her cooking and invited the 'lad' to a few card games before resting. The small conversations they had were always pleasant. Now the world felt a little more absent with the good guys being killed off. She watched as they wrapped his corpse in a white cloth. The only things that were made sure to kept clean in a place like this. Spades were lay out in front of a mock gravesite. Izzy grabbed a spade determined to honour the men who banded together in order to protect each other. Well minus one of the dead but the rest deserved so much more. Tears stung her eyes as she buried deeper into the earth. Her stomach wouldn't stop that sick feeling building up. Ignoring it she powered ahead, making a sizable hole. Someone yelled for her to stop, siting there was enough room for the whole fort.

Ben helped her out as they brought the bodies forward and lowered them into the ground never to be seen by anyone again. Major Swift said a few parting words, asked some deity named 'Avo' to watch over their souls and then quickly buried them as if frightened they would become a hollow man. Izzy sighed staring up at the muted yellow sky wishing things would get better. Being in this world was tougher than she imagined. Here, she had to cling onto the edge to survive.

"You did well lad," said a soldier, Carter, to Izzy's right.

"Thanks," she replied, brushing off the worst of the dirt that clung to her uniform.

"I saw the way you fought. You're a natural lad. Thankful to have you in this motley crew," said Carter, wincing as his broken arm was put into a splint.

"Never really been part of something like this," she admitted taking a sit beside the wounded soldier.

"What a family of misfits?"

"Don't think I've ever had proper family,"

"Well, if it's worth anything, you've got one now,"

"It's worth a lot,"

Carter chuckled pulling out a flask and taking a swig from it. He handed it over to Izzy. She sniffed it then took an experimental swing. A burning sensation hit the back of her throat and travelled down to her chest. She coughed and gasped laughing alongside Carter who seemed amused by her reaction.

"Not used to Dweller whiskey are you?" he said. Izzy choked a little more before handing back the flask swallowing her laughter.

"That – was an – experience," she coughed out,

"Aye, you should meet the Dwellers though. They're an experience to,"

The two casually chatted for a while, Carter mainly talking about the girl he hoped to marry once they got out this hell-hole. Anna, a sweet barmaid working in the local tavern in Bowerstone market who he had met a few months before leaving for Mourningwood. They promised that they wait for him to come back before getting married. He even carried a plain gold wedding ring in case they were sent back. He asked about her missing memories in which Izzy replied with vague answers, feeling guilty about lying to such a nice guy. When clean-up was done, Carter was sent off to do light duties due to his arm.

"Getting friendly with Carter I see," said Ben, leaning over the new recruit his shirt hanging open as treated the cut on his shoulder. He had a very toned body, littered with scars from different weapons some old that they were white and others fresh and pink. Izzy glared up at him a stab of annoyance moving throughout her body. He had that stupid lopsided grin again. Did women really fall for that? It screamed 'I'm a womaniser, I will have my fun and then leg it". Even he had been there after Simmons's attempt and comforted her, the tables were turned once more now the threat was gone.

"I can make friends, anyway, he thinks I'm a guy," she replied.

"You could reveal true yourself to him,"

"Shut up Ben,"

"Oh come on, you do have a rather shapely rear, it's a shame to hid it beneath those clothes,"

"Didn't I say shut up?"

"Sadly, I'm ranked higher than you. Only Swiftie can shut me up,"

"Shut up Ben" said Major Swift coming over his bickering recruits. Izzy had blended in well with the other recruits. With short hair and thin stature, she looked like a sixteen year old boy. Better not to voice that out loud, women could be funny about that sort of thing. The excess mud and blood also clouded her soft features enough for no man to suspect. Although a few of the other lads had taken to calling her 'pretty boy' already.

"You did well today. Your shooting still needs more practise but I've never seen anyone except Finn take to a gun so quickly," said the Major, puffing on his pipe once more. She blushed a little thankful the mud obscured her skin.

"Thank you sir," she said.

"Best let Finn teach you some more before we retiring for a brief rest,"

Izzy grumbled but went over the shooting range anyway, acting like Swift had ordered her to go clean Private Jammy's wounds. Nobody in the camp ever wanted that job. Ben looked like Christmas had come early, eagerly following the young woman. Swift quickly grabbed him by the ear, pulling him back.

"Ow, sir, aren't I – ow – a little too old for this?" said Ben.

"One is never too old to be taught a lesson Captain. Now stop bothering the poor 'lad' and actually teach 'him' something,"

He let the young Captains ear go, shooting one last warning glare before instructing the men on what to do before the next hollow man attack. Rubbing his ear, Ben walked over to Izzy who had already pulled out the gun and was waiting for instructions. He knew he should probably stop but now the most dislikeable man of the camp was dead and she was safe. No more having to watch her back in a protective manner.

"Right lets deal with shooting while running," said Ben. For the next few hours the Captain made sure Izzy could hit a target whilst running. Wanting to save bullets for the next fight, they practised with peas. It wouldn't cause any damage or waste precious resources, well unless the men really wanted peas for dinner. They went through various scenarios which required a large amount of movement in order to culminant her skill. Although the Hero blood awakening within Izzy would put an edge above others, she was still hesitant when handling weapons. Skilled in the first battle, she still had much to learn within a short space of time. Most people had a few years of training, even if they were a natural. But they needed to survive and practise helped mould the second best sharp shooter. Plus it didn't help she was highly clumsy.

"No, pivot there, then aim, you'll hit the skull easier," shouted Ben, skirting around the edges watching Izzy's movements careful. One: so he could instruct her better. Two: So he could watch her move, take in her body. At times she was like a dancer moving gracefully across the field. Then like some fool that couldn't help but trip over their own feet and face plant the floor.

"Come on! You can do better that!" yelled Ben earning a hostile glare back. Izzy was just about ready to punch his smart mouth after two hours of solid practise after a fight. However, a stray bone that had not been cleaned up sending flying her towards the Captain. They collided, landing in a heap on the soggy ground which squelched under their bodies. Winded, she groaned leaning against Ben who couldn't look happier.

She had landed apparently in the right position to be straddling him. Ben only smiled enjoying the view whilst it was there. Blushing, Izzy quickly scrambled off thankful that they in the part of the shooting range that blocked the others view of them.

"Oh, that ended too quickly," he pouted in a mocking manner. She scolded, storming off towards the tent. Ben followed chuckling to himself. Her discomfort amused him when it shouldn't. Maybe she was a virgin. Blushing so much at crude gestures and anything of a sexual nature. Someone who was waiting for marriage afraid that a dashing soldier would come take it away.

"Could you leave me alone for five minutes," snapped Izzy, sitting on the bedroll and turned away from him. It was almost like looking at a child. She couldn't have been older than twenty-four. Pulling off the young boy look worked though.

"I did leave you for five minutes and you were making 'friends' with Carter," said Ben. The next thing he knew, Izzy was on her feet and his face stung. She had struck him. The imprint of a hand burnt on his cheek. The pain told him that it had occurred but the movement seemed so fluid and quick.

"Why do you have to be such a fucking dick? I've got no idea about the world I'm in, no memories and no idea who I truly am, so why do you keep making it harder than it is?" she shouted, clearly not bothered by the fact she had hit him.

"Was I really being that bad?" he asked.

"No, the constant sexual harassment makes me feel special,"

"Really?"

"No!"

The duo glared at each other for a few seconds unable to find the right words thinking about the things which annoyed them most about each other. Ben was annoyed that Izzy acted all high and mighty and Izzy was annoyed that Ben treated her like some tart. Outside a few shouts could be heard but the pair ignored them trying to further berate each other. Either was going to back down from this argument. A soldier popped his head through the tent flap. It was a curious sight to see the Captain and the new lad glaring at each other as if they about to start a fight.

"Captain, Major Swift needs you present, Sir Walter is here,"

He looked away from Izzy, clearly confused. The tension in the air dispersed, leaving a faint hostile air between the two.

"What the hell is Wally doing here," questioned Ben, brushing passed the Hero in training not wanting to continue the argument. The moment to air out their problems had passed now. She huffed, exiting the tent to get a look at the new arrivals. An older man stood shaking hands with the Major laughing like they were old friends. He stood at least a foot taller over Swift and had a rather impressive beard. Beside him stood a man no older than twenty, with long red hair and doe like brown eyes. He wore a black jacket, fairly decent dark blue trousers and massive black boots. A tattoo of elaborate heart glowed blue on his bare chest. Izzy took a few moments to stare at the man's abs, taking in the delightful site. A scar ran across his upper chest but it didn't mare the rather pretty site.

Whereas the older man she guessed to be Sir Walter carried a fine sword, the younger man carried a rather impressive hammer and flintlock rifle. The Major pointed over towards Izzy, quietly whispering in Sir Walter's ear. The other man nodded looking over at her in a confused manner.

"Private Taylor, over here," called Swift, beckoning her forward. Sucking in a deep breath she walked over, hoping the day would somehow improve.

_**Yay! Walter's here. Now Izzy will experience more about being a hero and more head butting with Ben Finn. Oh, the fun of it all. Thanks for reading. **_

_**TheLastOneHome**_


	5. Of Heroes and Knights

Chapter Five

Of Heroes and Knights

_**And now, the introduction of our favourite Albion Knight and the rebel prince. Hope you all enjoy.**_

Walter watched as the boy trudged forward. He didn't seem like much, not hero material anyway. A bit on the scrawny side, even the smallest uniform hung from his thin frame, making him look like child dressing in their fathers work clothes for a game. But there the sword hung from his hip telling of a heroic bloodline, no denying its bold nature. Something like couldn't be faked by any means. Maybe something could be made out of the lad. He was a bit soft featured; Walter could understand the other soldiers nicknamed him 'pretty boy' although it was only meant in jest.

Apparently Isaac or Izzy made a very good stew which quickly won over the other soldiers; although they often joked he was clumsy and trod the line of being a good marksman carefully. A nice stew would be good though, if the lad knew what he was doing. That would be pleasant change after the terrible things he'd had over the past month. He was never eating Dweller Surprise Soup ever again.

"Ah, there you are Private Taylor, say hello to Sir Walter and his highness, Prince Darius of Albion," said Swift.

Izzy panicked unsure of what to do in front of royalty. Curtsey? Bow? Sprout some form of Shakespearian language? Sir Walter took her small hand and shook it furiously, sizing her up, eyes darting over her arms and face. Probably trying to work out if what Swift said was true. In all honesty if Theresa hadn't of visited, she'd still be having a hard time believing it. Darius smiled lightly offering a hand to shaking his head at Walters abrasive manner.

"We are comrades here, no need for titles, just Darius," said the prince "that's a clever disguise by the way."

"As is yours,"

"You can tell it's dyed?"

"Your roots are starting to show."

The prince ran a hand through his long hair muttering about botched dye jobs and someone called Jasper. A border collie wandered around the group sniffing at the ground apparently bored with the men's conversation. The others began taking about some guy named Logan while Walter told Ben to shut up which amused Izzy greatly. She didn't have a clue what was going on since the Major and Walter talked in hushed tones. The word revolution was picked up on though. The dog yipped tossing a hollow man bone to the side finding no joy in it. Finding nothing the dog trotted back to the group, sitting beside Izzy rather than his master. Its nose nuzzled her hand asking to be pet which she obliged in doing.

"Hmm, Shadow doesn't usually warm to people so fast," observed Darius, watching as the young woman in disguise rubbed Shadows belly.

"According to Swift, the boy's a Hero," answered Walter, noticing a thin blue line on the lads exposed wrist. Will use. Like the old king used to have.

"Walter, you do realise that's a girl in disguise right?"

"What!?"

The cry echoed around the camp making the others look over in concern then shrug it off. Swift held back a chuckled biting into his pipe. The prince laughed knowing if Walter could be fooled by the disguise, she would be fine in the fort. Only Swift and Finn of her true identity, apparently taking great pleasure in revealing their new recruits gender as a joke to Walter.

"So, what's the story with your latest recruit?" asked Walter, watching the 'boy' play with the prince's dog.

"No idea. 'He' just turned up one day after being attacked by hollow men with the legendary sword from Dead Man's Grove. Claims 'he' remembers nothing apart from 'his' name and waking up in the graveyard. Since we couldn't spare any men to take 'him' to a nearby village, we decided to train a Hero to fight beside us," explained Swift, lighting his pipe.

"What does 'he' know so far?"

"'He's' very good at shooting but swordsmanship and magic, I don't think 'he' knows much thus far,"

"Maybe we can teach 'him' Walter," suggested Darius.

"Hmmm, another Hero would be a good idea,"

"You don't think 'he' could be my fathers…"

"Your father your mother dearly, he never strayed. We just have another bloodline on our hands."

The prince smiled in relief, not wanting to think ill of his father. A long lost sister would be nice but not through an extra martial affair.

"Come on, we'll finish this discussion in my tent, Captain, Private, you will follow," instructed Swift. Shadow gave the new heroes hand a lick before trotting back to Darius who merely smiled down at the animal. Izzy followed the group into the tent feeling small against the tall men; she was barely up to Darius's shoulder. Being the smallest meant she was less likely to get stabbed though. Swift had a large but modest tent. Being in charge of the fort warranted a bigger tent than most the men. Unlike most tents, Swift had a table in which he spread out a map of the area over it. There were little red marks all over it, showing where the worst of the hollow men activity was. Swift took the head of the table staring at the four other people gathered around it. He cleared his throat before beginning.

"Now, as we all now know, Private Isaac Taylor is actually Miss Isabella Taylor, who is an untrained Hero. Although already rather good with a gun, she has much to learn. Tonight we will be once again attacked by hollow men and we need all the help we can get. Only then will I believe fighting your cause is a worthy one Darius," said Swift "Logan has gone too far and Albion suffers for it. The world needs heroes once again."

"I will take Miss Isabella outside and teach her how to use that sword," said Walter.

"I'll come watch," input Ben.

"Shut up Ben,"

"You will show Darius the mortar and teach him how to use it," instructed Swift.

"And once this night is over, I'll teach Izzy how to use Will," said the prince, smiling over at the young hero who nervously looked away.

"Will?" she asked.

"Yes, it's magic. Only heroes can use it, channelled through our gaudlets," explained the prince, placing his similar gaudlet bound arm next to Izzy's who went a little red faced.

Ben frowned. Darius seemed nice enough couldn't fault the lad for those good looks and stupid open, innocent eyes. A few scars on his chest told of the fights he'd been getting into. However, Ben doubted he'd faced the same hardships as him. Trying not to feel jealous that Darius had made Izzy blush in a matter of seconds, the duo left the tent for the mortar.

"Now lad, we'll go do some practise with that magnificent sword of yours," said Walter, leading a terrified Izzy out the room. Swift sighed, looking down at the map wondering why Logan hoped to kill them all off in this cursed land. He'd been thinking about it since the came to the fort. Puffing on his pipe, the Major watched as Walter instructed the Hero in defending and parrying. The girl caught on quickly if not a little clumsy in her footsteps. Thankfully the pair duelled with sticks whilst Izzy learnt the ways of the sword. She would've collected a few scars with a real sword.

"Good lad, now, try to strike me," said Walter, holding up his stick watching the young hero pause. She was quite nervous when it came to battle. Although picking it up quite fast, her footing was still off and posture quite sloppy. Diving forward to strike Walter in the stomach, he easily dodged.

"You need to aim more fluidly, stop pausing, stop over thinking it. You and the sword are allies and you must trust what is in your hands," said Walter "again." They sparred for an hour or so, breaking to have something to eat. Izzy felt exhausted, she had only managed to get a few hours' sleep, barely ate anything and her arms ached from the constant practise. Being a hero wasn't all it was cracked to be.

"Very good, your almost like Darius, he was natural when it came to combat," panted Sir Walter, aiming a jab at Izzy's neck. She quickly dodged managing to hit the old knight in the stomach.

"Thanks," she grunted getting a little tired of being compared to people. Sure, she was new at this, yes she knew she tripped up a lot and ran into walls. But being her own Hero would be nice instead of being compared to someone was clearly better.

"Sir! The hollow men are attacking early!" shouted Jammy, the sounds of the mortar exploding could be heard. Walter groaned, nodding at the young woman to join the remaining men by the gate. Even though this was a new hero, the old knight's priority would always be the prince.

The camp sprang into action, quickly arming themselves for the nightly onslaught of the undead. Swift started barking orders again, while the remaining men rushed forward to defend the gate. The dead were outside, moving forward towards the fort and shooting anyone on the wall. Jammy and Darius ducked down not wanting to be ended by a stray bullet. For creatures without eyes, they sure knew where to hit. It didn't stop there; tonight the horde seemed to have doubled. The wisps had started banging against the gate, trying to get the mighty door to open. It breathed out, showing the amount of wisps trying to gain entry. The young woman ran forward, watching as the men tried to keep out the unearthly orbs. Carter gave Izzy a reassuring smile as they ran forward to help. The wisps were darting all over the place trying to find entry. They pounded against the door making it boe under pressure.

"Come on Izzy, can't let this undead bastards win," said Carter, pressing harder against the door. The wood trembled underneath their touch, as if it was frightened of the creatures outside. Ben could be heard on the wall shooting at a few hollow men patrolling the outer rim. The door splinted a little, a slim slither falling to the ground. A blue light could be seen through the gap trying to squeeze through.

"It's no use!" yelled Izzy "they're coming through!"

"Don't give up, pretty boy!" yelled another solider. But the wood of the door splintered again opening a gap large enough for a wisp to get through. It travelled towards the ground, a skeleton erupting from the ground. It roared, shooting at the gate people. The bullet struck Carter in the chest, sending him screaming to the ground. The other men tried to hold the position as Izzy broke away her face full of fury. Unsheathing her sword, she let out a monstrous cry and beheaded the hollow man.

It fell apart, bones clattering against the hard ground motionless once more. Carter lay on the floor clutching his chest, a trickle of blood coming out the corner of his mouth. She knelt beside him, accidently covering her knees in his pooling blood. It soaked into the white trousers staining them with her friend's life-force. The hollow men reached through the gate only to be shot at point blank range. She leaned forward grasping Carters wrist covering the wound. His breathes were short and brief, sounding laboured and wet. "I don't want to go," he gasped "I want to see Anna again, please don't make me go."

He gave a wet cough, more blood spurting out. There was nothing she could do. Being a hero meant nothing to this dying man. She felt utterly helpless. All this power… and she couldn't even save one friend, a man who wanted to live. The bullet hit the right place; it was beyond repair but gave a few moments in life. A tear fell down as she looked at the dying man, her friend.

"Please Izzy, please, I want to stay… I want to see…" he trailed off, the spark in his eye fading away until they were just glass. His hand went slack over his chest, falling to the ground. The ring he'd promised lay in his palm, shining in the pool of blood.

The gate finally caved in from the pressure. The wisps broke through as Izzy picked up the ring, placing it in her pocket. The hollow men rose up from the ground as the soldiers readied themselves.

"Taylor! What are you doing!?" yelled one man, watching as the boy stood motionless as the undead sluggishly moved towards him. Fists clenched in fury, the men watched in awe as bright orange orbs danced around the young soldier, forming into a whirlwind. Izzy looked up, blue line traveling down her face, eyes lit in a red hue. Screaming in anguish, the young hero let go of the power aiming it at the cluster of hollow men gathered. Waves of flame jetted off the young soldier powering into the undead without mercy. They were incinerated in one move, no bones to fall to the ground. Only dust remained. Taking hold of the sword once more, she powered into the hollow men, joining Swift in the fight.

"Looks like we're winning!" shouted Walter as the survivors hacked through the sea of skeletons.

"Don't jinx it Wally," yelled Ben, aiming a shot that passed through three hollow men.

"Shut up Ben," answered the old soldier, impressed by Izzy's power and proud of Darius's ability with a hammer. The two were quite a team, one powered by revenge and the other by the need to prove that they were worth following. The young woman was lit by an unearthly light, will lines framing her face as she aimed more fireballs at the dead. Sadly Jammy's luck ran out as a rather nasty hollow man wielding a cleaver cut his chest wide open. He fell to the ground like a rag doll, limp and lifeless joining Carter on the blood sodden floor. Ben swiftly dispatched the hollow man but the damage was already done. No even Jammy could come back from that wound. Soon the hollow men were all vanquished and in piles of bone on the floor.

"Showed them a thing or two," said Swift, going to light his pipe.

"Right you are," answered Walter.

It didn't feel over at all. Izzy could sense something. An uncomfortable sensation travelled up her spine with cold fingers. Wisps entered the fort once again. They aimed for the graves of the men who were felled a previous night. The ground rumbled as the men readied their ranks once again. The former mountain of a man, Lt Simmons burst out from the ground. Dirt rained down upon blocking the view from the giant hollow man. For a brief second, Izzy was annoyed about how long that hole took to dig and the fact Simmons had the nerve to come back.

"Lieutenant Simmons! I specifically instructed for you to remain buried!" yelled Swift, pulling out his sword once again.

"Does nobody listen anymore?" said Ben. The former lieutenant roared. A powerful, unearthly wind caught them all by surprise. A few men were sent tumbling to the ground, unable to fight the huge undead man. Izzy, however, had the unfortunate position of being directly in front of the hollow man. The wind wrapped its claws hands around her body, smacking her head first into the nearest wall. The jarring pain exploded in her forehead, multi coloured spots appearing before her eyes. For a moment a numb feeling travelled across her body. Then the red hot pain started to filter in as it felt like her skin was splitting apart.

The pain made her feel dizzy as she slowly sat up seeing a pair of boots run forward towards her. Ben's boots. A few men were still on the ground but were scrambling onto the wall were the mortar was. Walter led them upwards whilst glancing worriedly at the prince who stood before the monstrous hollow man. The hero prince held up his mighty hammer signalling for his pet dog to join Walter by the wall before blocking the first attack. Blood dribbled into her eye line slowly obscuring her vision of the battle. Everything began to double up. A pair of strong, rough arms picked her up and gently carried her onto the wall away from the violence. Faint and dizzy, she lifted a hand up to her head, feeling the amount to blood pouring out. It was a cascade of twisted water.

"Don't worry, I've got you," said Ben, his voice sounding muffled throbbing beat in her head. Izzy gave into darkness just in time to hear the Captain yelling out her name in panic.

_**Since everyone else was getting shot and stabbed, I thought it was about time Izzy endured the same treatment. In this world would at least have a few more scarred. Maybe I'll inflict more later on…**_


	6. Tensions and Tears

Chapter Six

Tensions and Tears

_**So, meeting the wall with your forehead isn't the best thing. Izzy now knows she isn't immune from getting beaten the crap out of in this world. Let's see how she's coping with the new injury.**_

Everything was shrouded in complete darkness. She was aware of it, being stuck a state between dreaming and awake. Where you're vaguely aware of the outside world but it's like you're trapped. Unable to move, speak, scream. It felt cold and lonely. There was nothing in the darkness. No hope, no way out, just a blanket of black. This adventure was becoming bleaker by the minute. Izzy didn't like being here, it was lonely and dark. The only thing keeping her company was fear. It moved through the darkness like an old friend, one with the black abyss.

"Izzy,"

A light bobbed into view, dancing around in an erratic manner and zooming around her eye line.

"Wake up, we need you, wake up,"

"Ben?" she questioned, it certainly sounded like the annoying Captains voice. In a dreamlike state, she moved towards the little light lit in a blue glow.

"Come on, come back to us," it whispered, pausing in front of her. Izzy grabbed it watching it happily thrash around in her fist. The darkness dispersed, she could hear muffled voice, smell the horrible stench of camp. Not the best thing to wake up to after a massive attack but Mourningwoods stench made sure you were always fully awake. She slowly shifted around, testing out her heavy limbs. It felt like they were submerged in water, sluggish and slow to move. The pain, oh dear deity, the pain in her head. It felt like a drummer hitting everything in her skull at max speed while an axe murderer stabbed all in sight. Everything hurt, even her eyebrows. Over the pain she fought to wake up, eyes fluttering open to take in the musty light day. Sunlight streamed from outside entering through the open tent flap. Outside the sounds of orders being sounded and things being moved could heard. She closed her eyes again, the light adding another stabbing pain.

"Walter, she's waking up," called Darius, resting his hand on top of hers giving it a light squeeze. She groaned wondering if this world had some form of pain killer that wasn't alcohol. A nice big drink would also be lovely though.

"Hello Hero," said Darius, standing over her as her eyes fully opened.

"That's a nice to wake up to," she mumbled smiling up at Darius's face, the face tattoo faintly glowing blue. The prince laughed happy that Izzy treated him like any other rather than royalty. Her bold statements would have most upper class women flushing with embarrassment. They were refreshing when most people would only bow and scrap not daring to say a word out of turn near the highborn. Walter came into the tent smiling at the young Heroes recovery, Shadow trotting beside the warrior. The Border collie rested its head against the injured hero's hand, whining and nudging it. Izzy smiled to show she was ok and scratched Shadow behind the ears who in return, thumped his tail in with happiness.

"Thought we'd lost you to a living death there, had us worried," said Walter. The young woman smiled lightly rubbing the bandage wrapped around her head. It was a fresh one as there were no signs of any blood on it.

"We managed to clean the wound and put healing potion on it. However, I think it will scar," explained Darius. Izzy nodded, regarding that movement as her neck was extremely stiff and moved under extreme protest. Now she was truly part of the Swift Brigade since all of them had at least one scar. Although she wished it hadn't been on her head. People tended to be freaked out by face scars. Anyone with one tended to looked upon as a dangerous element.

"Where's the Major and Captain?" she asked in a hoarse tone. Walter poured a glass of water and handed it over. She guzzled it down getting rid of the sandpaper feel in her mouth and throat.

"They are getting ready to move out, you were sleeping for two days. There were no more attacks I think you two scared them off," laughed Walter.

"Ben's also pleased with himself," grumbled the rebel prince.

"Why is that?" asked Izzy.

"Heard you mumbling his name while under, happy as hobbe right now,"

She groaned out of annoyance and more pain. Not only had the young Captain carried her safety but now she'd be saying his name in her sleep. She would never hear the end of it. After leaving her to clean up, redress into her uniform and go to the loo, Walter came back, offering to put the still weak soldier onto a cart instead of walking.

"Aside from that, we're here to inform that Swift has joined Darius's cause," said Walter, holding out his hand to lift her up. Taking the old, rough hand, she leaned against the former knight still feeling weak.

"What's his cause?" she asked, squinting at the sunlight outside in the fort. It looked bare, all the tents were down and all packed up. There were fresh graves beside Jefferson's and Simmons's. Only two new ones and hopefully they would be left undisturbed.

"Darius plans to overthrow his brother, the king, Logan. He has become a tyrant, using children for labour, raising taxes to the point people live in poverty and many more terrible acts," explained Walter.

"Huh, guess that's a good cause to get behind. What the next move?"

"Darius and I will go ahead to warn the resistance of the Swift Brigade arrival, once you are well, I want to keep practising with that sword,"

The old knight placed her on the back of cart with the rolled up tents and various other objects with a few other injured soldiers. Everyone was a little worse for wear at the moment.

Darius came up to the cart smiling shyly at Izzy who tried to look anywhere but his soft, brown eyes.

"I want to you practise Will too. You did well against the hollow men but you need to have more control," said the prince, giving her shoulder one last squeeze before joining Walter by the open gate. They waved off the Brigade, running of into the woods towards Bowerstone. The tent she had been sleeping in was finally taken down and thrown onto the cart, a few soldiers coming to congratulate her on being hero. It didn't really matter to her. It didn't save a good man. She fished around in her pocket pulling out the ring, watching it glitter mockingly in the sunlight. If they were heading to Bowerstone, she could give it to Anna. Hopefully the poor girl stuck to her word.

The cart started moving a rocky ride along the uneven road. She had slept for almost two days but still felt a little weak, she munched on some stale biscuits and an apple a soldier had thrown over. It wasn't much but after two days sleeping, this was the best thing since the stew she made. The head wound throbbed a little more reminding her she was lucky to be alive at this point. This world really liked to test how far someone could be pushed. Staring down at the ring, she wondered how Anna would react to the terrible news. Even an ordinary person couldn't escape terrible things.

"What are you thinking about?" asked Ben, suddenly walking behind the cart.

"Lots of clever things," she answered putting the ring back in her pocket before the Captain could see it.

"Care to share,"

"Not really,"

Ben gave a lopsided grin, dived forward and picked Izzy up. Before she could protest, he had her in a firearms lift, walking away from the group. She could still see them but they separated enough not to be heard.

"What are doing you blonde prat!? Put me down!" she demanded, weakly beating her fists against the Captains back. The other soldiers ignored the duo, having been discussing the exact nature of their relationship. There were some interesting ones floating about, particularly the one in which Izzy was Ben's bastard brother who ran off to join the circus.

"Now, is that the proper way to speak to your commanding officer?" said Ben, amused by Izzy' annoyance.

"I shall you the proper my commanding officer gets his arse kicked once I'm put down," she snapped, giving up with escaping and decided to stare at his behind instead. It was a pretty good one.

"I was just wondering why you were mumbling my name in your sleep,"

"Maybe I was having a nightmare!"

"You wound me so fair maiden,"

After spending a few days in Mourningwood, Izzy looked far from fair. Even she admitted that. Her dark hair was streaked with blood and mud, clothes covered in all sorts and hands having become vaguely calloused. Becoming one of the lads wasn't hard with a short hair style and mud.

"Why are you doing this Ben?" she asked in a fairly defeated tone. Maybe she was just too tired for their usual logger head relationship. Why was he doing this? They were heading off towards Bowerstone where there were bustier and looser women he could indulge in. Nothing against Izzy but she wasn't exactly big in the curve department, even less now since experiencing the soldier diet of Mourningwood. Ben shrugged keeping his eyes on the road ahead and tight grip on the woman he carried. The challenge was just too much to give up on.

"Guess it amuses me to annoy you,"

"What are you twelve?"

Nope, defiantly not too tired to insult him. They walked in silence for listening to the creaking of old trees and songs of the few birds that dared nest in Mourningwood. They would make it to Bowerstone market soon, populated with the almost well off part of Albion.

"Do you hope that anyone will recognise you in town?" asked Ben, an uneasy feeling stirring in his stomach. The young hero sighed sounding hurt.

"No," she said, quietly. Izzy hoped the subject would be dropped, knowing that there was no one waiting for her. No one ever was.

"Why?"

She sighed again, biting her bottom lip trying to come up with a lie that wasn't too far from the truth but still clung to the amnesia story.

"I have a feeling… that I don't have a family. When I came to the Brigade… I felt something I knew I've never felt before. I belonged somewhere."

Ben stayed silent; a painful feeling wrenched his heart. He knew that feeling after Swift convinced him to join the army. His family, those poor buggers who just couldn't find any luck in life were all gone and he was alone. Not with the Swift brigade though. Brothers in arms, ready to fight to the death together and always. It was almost like having his real brothers back.

"Do you hope to find a family when you get to Bowerstone?" he asked.

"I hope live long enough to see Darius get on the throne," answered Izzy, thinking pleasantly about the young prince. He was very nice. But that was it. Nice. Even though it was a vast improvement from Thomas, once Darius sat on the throne, he'd be tied to duty. After arriving in Albion, Izzy promised herself that she would fight to remain free. Travel the world and see all it had to offer.

"Hmm, I'm sure pretty boy would like to see that too," said Ben, tartly.

"Do I hear a hint of jealously Captain?" asked Izzy, amusement lacing her voice.

Ben grumbled some more but didn't answer. They were always dancing back and forth with each other. Either wanting to give a clear answer or admit anything, just going in circles. Izzy knew Ben was a womaniser; it clung to him like a second skin. It didn't change the fact that he was good man but there was always that horrible feeling of a fools hope. Ben could tell Izzy was insecure and wouldn't know if a guy liked her if he danced naked in front of her holding roses.

"Captain, at the front, bring the private since you've apparently kidnapped the poor lad," shouted Swift, pointing at the large wall they were approaching. Izzy hadn't noticed they were walking on actual road. The cobbled path had taken a beating over the years, claw marks and stray bullets were embedded within it. Ben jogged forward causing her still sensitive stomach to heave a little.

"How are you doing my boy?" asked Swift, looking down at Izzy as they entered through the gate. Other guards saluted the Major as he went by marking their respect for him.

"Much better thank you sir," she said. The Major smiled and handed over a purse to Ben talking with about getting a few new clothes whilst Izzy still looked at the ground. They were to wait in the local pub until Walter came and collected them for the resistance. Izzy took in the area pleasantly surprised by it.

It looked like an old Victoria Town with thatched houses and cobbled streets. No cars clogging up the area or old blaring billboards. A few posters were scattered here and there advertising things. The smell of local stall produce wafted around, feeling pleasant compared to the horrible stench of Mourningwood. Then again, Bens boots smelt better than Mourningwood and she was pretty sure that smell killed a few plants. The shops had beautiful hand painted signs that illustrated what they were selling. Maybe not many locals could read around these parts being the lower class and all. It seemed a nice, peaceful place to live in. They arrived at the pub which made Izzy fall into a fit of giggles after seeing its name which led to the Major shaking his head wishing for more mature soldiers. The Cock in the Crown seemed to be poking fun at a lot of things and seemed nice enough. There were a few people sitting around staring at their half empty pints in the hope they would fill back up again through sheer will.

The Major strolled up to the counter, ordered two rooms and two baths to be prepared for them whilst Ben placed Izzy on a seat. Before he joined the Major in getting a drink, she caught his shirt sleeve.

"Could you ask if there's an Anna here please?" she asked, face more pinched and gaunt than before. It looked like a sudden weight had been placed upon her shoulders.

"Um, sure," he said, hoping the girl would be attractive. Pat the barkeep glared at Ben as he approached cleaning a mug with a filthy rag.

"I don't want you sniffing around my barmaids. I let you stay because Swift is a mate, I don't want to hear crying the next day about how you broke all your promises," snapped Pat, spitting in the mug for emphasis.

"Funny you should say that," began Ben, earning another death glare "the lad over there wants to speak with someone named Anna, wondered if they worked here." Pat leaned to the right and looked over the Captains shoulder at who he was pointing at. A small fella with funny hair that stuck up all over the place who didn't at all threatening. Plus he looked quite injured and deathlike to be performing anything of Finn's feat.

"All right but no funny busy from you, she got here an hour ago, I'll get her in a moment" said Pat, poking the Captains red jacket and pouring out a few pints. Ben took them with a sarcastic salute wandering back to Izzy. He watched as the young woman tore up a bar mat in a nervous manner and sighing heavily. A woman probably about twenty-six came skipping up to their table, her red hair in a bun and bright red lips glistening in the pubs candle light.

"Hello, I'm Anna, Pat said you wanted to speak with me," she said in a bubbly voice reserved for TV adverts about shoes.

"Yes, it's about Joseph Carter," said Izzy, pointedly looking at Ben and signalling for him to go away. He sighed picking up his pint and sitting at the bar while the hero talked to the woman.

"Is he OK?" she asked, slowly sitting down on a chair. The soldier sadly gazed down at their untouched beer.

"I'm sorry, he didn't make it, there was an attack, he was fatally wounded," said Izzy, placing a hand on Anna's and giving it an awkward pat. She really didn't know what to do in these situations.

"Oh…" said the barmaid, staring down at the ruined beer mat on front of the soldier. Izzy pulled out the golden ring that she cleaned before they left for the town.

"This is few you. I didn't know Carter long but he told me he wanted to propose to you when he got back. He kept saying he wanted to see you as he lay dying," explained Izzy, placing the ring in the woman's hand, hoping it would give some form of comfort. Anna nodded, tears trickling down her face.

"Thank you… I-I am grateful even though it hurts. Thank you," she said slowly getting up and running into the back room of the pub. The barman glared over at Izzy as if she'd personally killed Carter and followed his fellow worker to see if she was OK. It hurt to lose someone. Izzy was glad she did this even though it did cause heartache; it made sure Carter was remembered in some way. She sighed again, picked up the pint and downed in one thinking it better than the Dweller Whiskey she had been offered at their first meeting.

_**Sadness in the entire world! It's that thing in the Fable games I like quite a bit where everything has a consequence. I wanted Izzy to experience that Heroes do suffer and they can't control everything. I am so nice. Reviews are welcome and thanks for reading.**_

_**TheLastOneHome**_


	7. That Awkward Moment…

Chapter Seven

That Awkward Moment…

_**Ok, so there is a bit of mature content coming up. Not quite M level but that might change in later chapters… you have been warned. Sit back and enjoy the show. Unless you don't like that sort of thing, then I suggest you skip this chapter. Lemons and fluff ahead. **_

The water felt nice, with a faint smell of lavender and just the right amount of heat. Its calming smell made sure that anyone within its waters would relax and forget their troubles. After the crappy incident with Anna, Izzy just wanted to sit and soak off all the grim from the past four days, physical and emotional. She never had been more thankful for a bath in her life. The small things about the other world that she took for granted were sorely missed. Like a flushing toilet. In Mourningwood it was a glorified hole in the ground, when she came to inn, she startled one man after seeing the porcelain throne. It amused Ben greatly that she celebrated small things such as these but having grown up in a world where these things were common, it felt good to have them back.

Anna made sure she was well looked after, supplying a few beers and nice, thoroughly washed towels. Even her clothes were getting the special treatment, being thoroughly washed. The inn had supplied a couple of white shirts and loose trousers while her clothes were cleaned. However, Anna was still under the impression that Izzy was Private Isaac Taylor though. Although still hung up about Carter, Anna seemed to have taken a shine to Izzy, hopefully in a 'thank you for bringing back the ring' way. It hurt to be deceitful to nice people. Then again, it couldn't be helped since Swift had now taken to calling her lad all the time as a joke. It would come out eventually and would be like Anna getting her heart broken all over again finding out her beloved Isaac in fact had boobs. Izzy sighed poking at her bony hips thinking it unhealthy the small weight she didn't have to spare was now gone. Apparently lack of sleep, a poor diet of potatoes and vegetables and constant battle taxed her body.

"The Mourningwood diet, it might kill you but at least you'll be a thin corpse," she whispered, poking at a bruise on her rib.

She moaned with comfort leaning back against the water, thinking over the four days of fighting and training. A few hours had passed since getting in but it felt so relaxing. Although her fingertips were becoming a little wrinkled after soaking for so long. Her muscles weren't aching anymore so that was plus. The small niches and cuts were slowly healing. The bandage on her forehead was also gone. A jagged scar sat above the left eyebrow, zigzagging up into the hairline. If she tried, her fringe could hide it.

"Scars and trials, the way of the hero," she mumbled reaching over for another beer. Currently she had had a few to many. It dulled away the throbbing pain around the scar and numbed the awful feelings she'd been accumulating for four days. Thin blue lines zigzagged up skin. Will lines Darius had said, they came through whenever magic was used. That's why the rebel prince's tattoo glowed, the will making itself known. They did look pretty but dangerous looking at the same time.

"Hey, Swift is snoring really badly, might if I – woah, taking a bath I see," said Ben, suddenly coming through the door unannounced, forcefully swinging it open. The men had taken turns in bathing, washing away the battlefield in the bar bath and agreed to share a room. The Captains blonde hair was extremely fluffy bouncing in an attractive way as if to lure women in. He was dressed in a simple white shirt and brown trousers completely bare foot in the pub. All their clothes were getting cleaned it would seem, having been coated in a months' worth of blood and muck. Ben still had a flurry of stubble, having shaved almost every day. Although, the shadow always seemed to be present of the cheeky Captains face as if it were mandatory.

. Instead of shrieking or covering her breasts Izzy stood up in the bath glaring at the Captain as if to shame him pure nakedness. The water cascading down her body raining back into the scented bath in an effort to escape the scene about to unfold. It was a sight to held, the young naked hero squaring off against the known womaniser Captain. Hands on hips, she glared at him some more whilst he drank in the image of her. It was utterly beautiful, even the will lines and scar. They told of a hard life, matched with strong unflinching eyes. Ben could tell the incident with Simmons was something Izzy quickly shred in order not for it to get to her.

"Can I not spend a few precious moments away from Captain Ben fucking Finn," she yelled, angrily stepping out the bath and trying not to slip on the shiny floor. Picking up a nearby towel the hero angrily started drying herself not bothering to cover anything up. He had already seen everything anyway.

Ben couldn't same anything still staring at her naked form. Even though he teased and joked, it had been hard to see passed the boyish disguise. But now… it was hard to ignore the small, pert breasts and cluster of dark hair between her legs. The room became silent whilst one person tried to calm their fury and the other calming their passion.

"Anyway, what do you want? You said about Major Swift," she said bitterly. He shook his head as if to break out of a dream.

"Um, he's snoring, you've got two beds in here, thought I might sleep in one," he explained, watching as she slid on an oversized white shirt that feel just passed her thighs.

"How do you know I don't snore?" she snapped, aggressively running a brush through her thick, dark hair.

"I watched over when you had a fever from the head wound, you just mumbled a lot," he said, giving the same old lop sided smile.

Izzy glared and stalked over to the bed, pulled up the covers and buried herself beneath them. If looks could kill… well he would have died about twenty times over by now.

"I'm sorry Izzy, I just wanted to get away from the snoring," he said.

"No, you're using at as an excuse to continue to walk on me changing or being naked in any form," snapped the duvet.

"I do have good timing for that sort of thing," he said, instantly regretting that joke as a pillow angrily met with head.

"I'm sorry," he tried again, only to take a very pissed off looking woman sit up and then stride over. He'd only ever gotten that reaction from a husband who discovered his wife in bed with the Captain. A bullet in the butt was not a pleasant experience.

"Well, you've already seen me naked what else do you want!? This!?" she snapped acidly. Before he knew it, the hero had grabbed his stubble infested face and furiously kissing him. It was brief and hard with Izzy quickly pulling away, looking shocked at her own actions more than anything. The duo stared at each other unsure on how to proceed with Ben fixed with a shocked, happy face. A slow minute of pure torture the tension the room started to run high. Ben reached forward grabbing Izzy by the upper arms and kissed back. She found herself complying by wrapping her arms around the Captains neck, titling her body towards his.

The pair stumbled backwards hitting the wall of the pub. They grinded together, exchange passionate kisses as Ben fumbled to place one hand on Izzy's rear and other too cup her breast. He slowly rolled his thumb over her pink peak, earning a soft moan. She broke away trailing a few kisses down his neckline as he worked to get the linen shirt off. Her hands feverishly started unbuttoning his shirt, taking in the garden of blonde chest hair, the small scars and the big ones. She ran her hands over them hearing Ben give a gruff moan. Through the drunken fog, Izzy's actual sober thoughts managed to break through.

_What are you doing!? Sure, Thomas isn't in the scene anymore but is this really an improvement? He'll have his fun and bugger off!" _yelled her persisted inner voice. She opened her eyes feeling the heat from her abdomen burn as Ben stroked her inner thigh. It sent a pleasurable tingle through her body making harder to think straight. This wasn't what she wanted, sure it felt good but it wouldn't last. It would only to be destroyed by Captain Finn finally getting what he wanted.

"Ben stop," she gasped, feeling his calloused finger run along her womanhood and teeth grazing her exposed nipple. It felt so good; it was almost too hard to not let it continue.

"No, please stop it," she said in a more panicked tone, pushing him away. Ben back peddled in confusion watching as Izzy quickly covered herself up again.

"What? I thought you wanted this?" he said, anger almost starting to peak.

"That's what I thought too," she answered quietly, sitting down the bed.

"Then why the sudden change of heart," he demanded, erection sitting comfortably against his trousers. Seriously the damn things were itching against it.

"Because to you, this is one night, the next day it'll be a notch on the bedpost, a big ol' celebration for Ben Finn that he fucked a hero," said Izzy "achievement unlocked well done, now let's continue on as friends because I've had my fill."

No denying there was truth in those words. How many times had he done this to a woman? Countless occasions. He always came out the victor in all of it.

"But you knew, you knew what I was like,"

"I am always drunk, on edge and de-stressing from the passed for days,"

"Surely this would help?"

"No, it wouldn't. Because when you're gone, you're gone and it's no turning back, I don't want that,"

"Then want the fuck do you want!?"

"Something I can keep!" shouted Izzy, the gaudlet beginning to flare up. A few sparks fell out, landing on the ground leaving as quickly as they came. The duo panted, anger still coursing through each of them.

"I want someone to not use me because of all the shitty things to remember I know I've been used to my entire life. I have been a means to end by some many people and I don't want to add this to the list. Unless there is some remnant to genuine feeling for me, then stay and we'll fuck until morning but if this is just another bonus point for the great Ben Finn, then please just go," she said, not looking at the Captain. Silence clung to the room waiting in bated breath. Finally, the sharpshooter turned his heel and left. Izzy sank down into the pillows and for the first time since arriving in Albion, cried over her problems.

OOoooOOooo

Swift tried to ignore the hostile air sitting between him. This morning had got off to a nice start. He thankfully found Ben still sleeping in the same room as him, having not found some woman to share a bed with. But once they all got up to wait for Walter, his two lost souls where doing everything in their power not make eye contact. It was quiet too, the trio sitting down to breakfast without some much a hello. Izzy was on his right pushing around a now spoiled egg and Ben just leaned to the side so he could continue looking at the bar. Outside the morning hustle of Bowerstone Market was coming to life. The shopkeepers joyfully boasted of their prices and wears whilst the general population tried scrapping together to burn the little they could afford.

Outside was nice, warm and friendly. Sitting in pub, it felt like the valley of Mistpeak was squatting in the corner with the soldiers. They weren't even exchanging insults which usually lightened the mood between them. This was going to be a long day. Walter walked in the pub, a hood over his head to obscure line of sight, checking if anyone was following him. Swift had never been happier to see someone even if it did lead to danger. He always just about ready to hit his soldiers across the head and tell them to grow the Avo up.

"What's the news?" asked Swift. Walter sat down surprised at Ben not uttering a word, he almost told him to shut up out of impulse.

"Page is ready to meet us in Industrial. Darius is performing tasks in order to gain the local peoples trust," explained the old soldier, gratefully taking a plate of food and wolfing it down.

"Better be careful though, Page isn't overly fond of soldiers, took a lot of convincing" said Walter, guzzling down some beer whilst Swift listening intently. The other two had as much emotion as a corpse.

"Have I missed something?" he asked Swift who just rolled his eyes and lit up his pipe. Although Izzy's hair was now clean and rather fluffy, she still wore an oversized uniform. The scar could be seen under her hair, giving a certain dangerous edge to those soft features. Starting to look like a war weary soldier wasn't a bad thing but it also wasn't a good thing for a young lady.

"You know you don't have to pretend to be a boy anymore you can buy some new clothes," said Walter.

"Don't have any money," she answered barely looking up from the plate of food before her.

"Hmm, well that is a problem. Oh, also you'll be needing these," said Walter, handing over the sword, a new pistol and a small pack. Her steely gaze softened at seeing the weapons. She actually hadn't given them much thought being concerned with a few other things at hand.

"I was keeping them safe; Swift paid for the new pistol said you needed something better than the rusty piece of metal you had before," explained Walter, seeing the young hero smile for the first time since he'd arrived.

"Thank you," she said, stroking the gun. The captain huffed but didn't say anything eyes fixed on an interesting piece of floor.

"Also, a small payment after helping us out at the fort, go get some proper clothes lad," said Swift winking at Izzy.

"Go to the tailors at the end of the street I'm sure they will have something you can wear, we'll wait until you get back" said Walter, watching at Izzy picked her weapons and slowly exit the pub, looking back one more time before leaving. She watched through the window as the two older gentlemen turned to Ben both looking fairly annoyed. Turns out he doesn't even have to say anything to get on someone's nerves. She stalked up the street, getting a few admiring glances from women stall owners and a few men. Maybe they all really liked soldiers.

She spotted the elegant store sign at the end of the street, advertising its wears. Peering in, she took in the sights of a clothes shop from another world. It wasn't anything like H&M or River Island. Everything was on a mannequin rather than clustered together on a rail lowering the visual noise. The tailor seemed like a normal guy apart from the shock of blue hair.

"Um, I'm here to buy some clothes," she said walking to the counter. The tailor stopped working on the shirt he was doing and looked up for a moment.

"You're a bit young to be a soldier," he stated sewing on some more buttons.

"I'm twenty-four," she answered, annoyed by the flippant attitude.

"Bit of a pretty boy,"

"I'm a woman,"

The tailor looked up again and raised an eyebrow before smiling lightly. He put down the shirt, got up from behind his work bench and circled Izzy like some exotic bird ready to pick up its prey.

"Hmm, you need some work. Get out that uniform for a start," said the tailor.

"Actually I was hoping you could take in in the jacket, I've kind of grow attached to it," said Izzy, dumping her things on the floor whilst the tailor lifted up her arm and began taking measurements.

"Ah, yes, any man likes a woman in uniform," he said cheekily. Before Izzy could hit him, the tailor was lifting up her arms to take measurements of bust, hips and many others. She stood there while he scribbled down notes then instructing her to pick out the clothes she wished to wear, slipping off the jacket and starting to take it in.

After a good few hours and a handful of coins later, Izzy was admiring herself in mirror. She still wore a males white shirt but it had been adjusted to fit around her shape revealing a little bit of bust. Black trousers and big, stomping black boots seemed a practical choice after all the things she had walked through. Any dirt that attached itself wouldn't show up much either. The coat was perfect now, it clung around her wrists rather than going passed them and sat on her hips. It was overly more feminine.

"There, don't say I'm not a master at what I do," said John the tailor admiring his handy work. Now Izzy would less unlikely to be mistaken for a teenage boy.

"Thanks, I better get going, a few friends of mine are in the pub, better get there before they're too drunk to walk," she said, exiting the tailor. Maybe they were already drunk or just really bored from waiting. Better go find out.

_**Hahahaha, no full on sex scenes for you. Anyway, I wanted Izzy to have interactions with other people from this world, a tailor seemed like a good idea since she needed new clothes anyway. Till next time.**_

_**TheLastOneHome**_


	8. Resistance Is Futile

Chapter Eight

Resistance Is Futile

_**New coat, new trousers and some confidence. Still gonna be a bit awkward with Ben… Well, lets see how that goes…**_

The trio had actually stuck to drinking water rather than beer, annoying the bar owner who grumbled it wasn't cheap to filter it. They needed to be clear headed at meeting the Resistance; gaining respect would be hard if they were all drunk. Izzy walked into the pub hand on the hilt of her sword, making it clear that no one should wolf whistle her. A few men sitting in the pub were surprised at the revelation at one of the soldiers being a woman. Some stuck to scratching their heads in confusion. The new coat suited her well, earning a few admiring gazes but no one made a remark. They feared they would meet with that rather sharp looking sword.

"Took your time lad," joked Swift, standing up along with Walter who could now see the cluster of blue lines gathered at the base of Izzy's neck. Ben said nothing, looking down at his feet. The two older men decided not to ask, thankful that the Captain actual stayed quiet for a while. It was rare and an oddity but greatly appreciated when it happened.

"Right we'll be off now, we'll have to skirt around the edges of town in order not to be noticed," said Walter as they exiting the pub and dived down the nearest alley. The young woman raised an eyebrow noticed all four of them were dressed in something red. Yeah, that wouldn't get them noticed at all, it wasn't a really obvious colour or anything. Moving through the shadows they stopped occasionally to stare around the corner causing Izzy to stifle a laugh. It felt all a little silly, not many guards were patrolling anyway which Swift had a good swear about. Ben stood behind Walter since he could probably spot something before they did.

"We're heading to Bowerstone industrial now, so keep your things close, the beggars here are a sly lot," said Swift.

The group entered the industrial part of town trying not to choke at the fumes polluting the air. Everything seemed to be covered in a thin smog which wandered the dirty streets. A picture of a man wearing a top hat covered most of the walls, saying something about a man named Reaver, a few being scratched out or had graffiti all over them. Izzy was almost tempted to go back to Mourningwood. She had seen more life from the hollow men than these poor souls wandering around. It was like all hope had been lost, exhausted by living in such a dreary place. The houses weren't much of an improvement, covered in charcoal dust and all sorts of grim. Whores watched the group walk by licking their lips at the soldiers as if they were easy prey. Izzy stood closer to Walter glaring at the barely dressed women who puckered their lips in response.

They walked towards the port area of the industrial section, carefully looking around for any guards before walking down to the sidewalk. Walter pressed himself against the wall, signalling for the others to do the same. They followed carefully, watching out for anyone who might see them. Just a couple of drunks throwing up into the sea, staining the already murky water. The fishes wouldn't be happy about that. The old knight opened a door which seemed to blend in with the scenery, making sure that not just anyone could walk in. They entered the base, hit by a wall of unpleasant smells. _How classy_ thought Izzy, noticing they were stalking through a sewer tunnel. She was thankful for the boots she had brought, making such nothing horrible stuck to her feet or leg.

"I like what they've done with the place," said Ben, noticing a few supply crates littered around the place. The resistance members glared up at the soldier.

"Shut up Ben," said Walter, directing them into a bigger, cleaner smelling room. A dark skinned woman looked up from a large map and scowled. Her eyes widened as she saw the four soldiers standing there. Pulling out a gun, she almost shot Swift before Walter stepped in front.

"They're here to help Page," explained Walter, holding up his hands. The woman named Page frowned, giving each of the soldiers the once over.

"We don't need any more citizens beaten up thank you Sir Walter. You also could have at least blindfolded them before bringing to the base," snapped Page, glaring back down at the map. Izzy took an instant dislike to her; she seemed to appear as if someone was permanently kicking her in the shins.

"Yup, three blindfolded soldiers walking in broad daylight along the industrial. If we had done that, we might as well have been yelling 'we're going to the resistance headquarters follow us for a free tour'," said Izzy, stepping out from behind Walter who facepalmed hard enough to cause a small echo in the room. This was not how he wanted this to go. The resistance leader glared up, staring some more at the soldier who had spoken. In the shadows, they had just looked like a thin, rather weak looking person. Now she could be a little cleavage, soft features and hard eyes.

"You're a woman," said Page, staring in a surprised way at the female soldier before her.

"Well done, Captain Obvious, I also have black hair if you want to state that out loud,"

Walter groaned in the background whilst the other two men stood to the side-lines not wanting to get involved with the two women.

"I don't trust soldiers," said Page.

"I don't trust stuck up idiots," retorted Izzy, earning another glare.

"Why did you bring them here Walter?" asked Page not wanting to continue talking with the hostile woman.

"We are here to support the young prince in his revolution," stated Swift, standing proudly in the light. He placed a hand on Izzy's shoulder, motioning for her to calm down. Ben strolled over to Page giving her a lopsided smile receiving a withering gaze in return.

"You have Major Swift, Captain Ben Finn and Private Isabella Taylor, going by Izzy, all ready to do their part to dethrone the king," explained Walter "Izzy is also a new found hero."

"Has she proved herself yet?" asked Page, acidly.

"Why do I have to prove anything to you?" Izzy snapped back. Swift stood between the two warring women, who were just about ready to jump at each other's throats.

"Now, now this isn't helping at all. We need to band together in order to defeat Logan," said the Major giving both a glare of authority which shut them up pretty quickly.

"Izzy has proved herself to be very capable. Her swordsmanship still needs work but apart from that she's always come out fine," said Ben not looking over at the hero. Her heart fluttered a little feeling less cold towards the Captain. They still wouldn't look each other in the eye but at least were getting back on pleasant terms. Slowly at least. Page huffed a little more before shaking her head.

"Fine, we need all the help we can get, even if it is from soldiers,"

Izzy was about to make another retort before Swift cut her off with a look that screamed not to push it any further. She closed her mouth sticking to just glaring at the obnoxious leader instead.

"Darius is currently working a mission in order to rescue someone's fiancé from a notorious criminal named Nigel Ferret, currently my man report that the people of Bowerstone are beginning to believe in him as a leader," said Page, blanking Izzy and Ben, directing her speech at the two older men. The hero really wanted to slap the other woman.

"Some what do we need to do?" asked Swift.

"If you're still in favour with Logan, I suggest you go to the castle and see if you can find out anything," answered the resistance leader.

"Very well, I want Ben and Izzy to stay here though until they are needed. Maybe practise sparring for a while," said the Major, "I will go to the castle at noon, right now, Logan will be with his finical advisors."

For the first time in half a day, Izzy and Ben looked at each other locking eyes. Both their expressions were tense either one of them looking happy about this arrangement.

"Very well, if you must stay, there is a room we use for sparring practise beside this one, maybe someone will be gracious enough to provide some blankets for you to rest," said Page, not happy about soldiers walking freely around the headquarters. They all nodded in agreement heading off in opposite directions whilst the two younger soldiers awkwardly began walking outside without so much as word to each other. Swift watched them go, rolling his eyes at their silly behaviour. Yes, both Ben and Izzy were proud creatures, not admitting who was wrong in the long run. They were both being fools about their emotions. The Major knew Ben cared deeply for Izzy but would rather chop of his own arm than admit that. Izzy… well she was trying to prove to the world she could handle herself.

Swift sat in a corner of the map room, ignoring the glares he received from young Page, who talked to her most loyal subordinates on the next few missions. The new Hero had grown quite a bit from the nervous young girl from five days ago. She tended to question things a bit more and hold herself in a proud manner rather than slumped and timid. Swift smiled hoping that once this was over, he would see Izzy become quite a fine young woman and a hero that made the people proud.

In the room next door from the old soldier, both of his recruits were facing off, swords draw and ready to fight. They stood in a room lit with quite a few oil lamps. Battered swords hung from the wall, looking like they were the rejects from the blacksmiths pile. The grubby room didn't offer much apart from good amount of space to spar in. The duo paced around the edges eyeing each other uncomfortably. They hadn't uttered a word to each other, merely exchanging looks before taking battle stances. Without a word of warning, the Captain lurched forward aiming a strike for Izzy's heart. She blocked just in time staggering backward and almost losing her footing.

"You have to improve your stance unless you want to be tripping over all the time," said Ben, speaking directly at her for the first time.

"I am trying," she grumbled back, trying not to let last night's memories interfere with the sparring session.

"Try harder," he answered coldly. The clashed together once more, the sword strikes bouncing off the edges of the walls, vibrating through the room. Neither wanted to give in or talk it out. This was pure and aggressive, fighting out what was wrong rather than voicing it. Both darting across the room each of them gaining the upper hand at different points. A few rebels had gone to see what all the noise was about. As soon as anyone opened the door, the sound of clashing swords would echo through the tunnel. A few men were too frightened to close the door and simply ran away upon seeing the warring soldiers. Each had a look of determination and annoyance etched onto their faces. The duo continued with their aggressive sparring match, earning a few cuts they simply ignored.

"I guess you're still angry about last night," grunted Izzy blocking three furious attacks by the Captain. He wasn't letting up any time soon, driving her backwards into a wall. The legendary sword she held sparked, glowing a faint blue as if annoyed by the sudden abuse.

"Nope,"

"You are,"

"What makes you so sure?"

"You're not cracking crappy jokes,"

"I'll have you know my jokes are the best in town,"

"Maybe if you're seven,"

The duo stopped sparring, relaxing their swords. Holding onto something like this seemed silly now they were working towards dethroning a king who was apparently a tyrant.

"Look Ben, I'm sorry about last night, I let my emotions run to high plus I was a bit drunk but I don't want out friendship spoilt by it," said Izzy, rubbing away a bit of sweat on the back of her neck. Hopefully she could find an inventor in this world and prompt him to invent a shower.

Ben sighed giving her a ghost of his famous lopsided smile, trying to find the right words that wouldn't make him sound like a complete tool.

"I shouldn't have taken advantage of you like that, after Simmons," Izzy flinched at the name "I should have been more considerate. I was bull-headed so I'm sorry too." The pair smiled at each other glad that they actually managed to talk it put like sane people rather than trying to cut each other to ribbons. Izzy had improved and could probably battle it out with a few nasties in the world. They stared a little bit longer inching closer together, swords hanging limply by their sides. Soon, Ben's hands were on her hips and their lips lightly brushing together. They paused awkwardly staring at each other once more.

"I think we should go into the base headquarters or go dip in the cold sea," suggested Izzy, pushing away from the Captain before anything could continue.

"Agreed,"

They quickly rushed out the room blushing deeply over what transpired without being caused by an argument. They passed Swift who called out something about going into town and then the castle, wandering back out the sewer. They shrugged hoping the old soldier could gain some information for them. Page gave an annoyed glance up towards the soldiers who entered, feeling as the base was being invaded.

"I don't know why you two are hanging about, I don't have much use for you," she said.

"You never know, base could be attacked, I'm a good shot, I've downed three hollow men with one bullet," proclaimed Ben, nudging nearer to Page who skirted around the map some more in a bid to avoid the flirty soldier.

"That's impossible," Page said in a dismissive manner. Ben feigned offense at this comment.

"I'll have you know it's very true," said the Captain, spotting Darius walking into the room he honed in on the rebel prince. The prince looked highly annoyed about something, noting he'd now gained the respect of Bowerstone by doing some tedious tasks.

"Tell Page I killed three hollow men with one bullet,"

"Shut up Ben," said Walter entering the room after Darius. The group gathered around the map talking about how Bowerstone now swung in the support of the rebel prince rather than his tyrant brother. Shadow pranced in, upon seeing Izzy, bounded over and demanded to be petted. The others began talking about the guy who owned half Bowerstone industry, Reaver and how he had a few of Pages men held captive in his manor. Izzy didn't really pay attention, knowing Page would just ignore her. Apparently their plan was to in as guests disguised in fancy wear and rescue the men before this Reaver guy noticed. Yeah, good luck with that one.

"Wait just you and the prince to go in?" asked Walter in a concerned manner, watching as Page handed over fancy costume to Darius.

"You two get to have all the fun," said the Captain in a dramatic tone.

"Shut up Ben," said Walter not happy that he couldn't back up the prince.

"Look just take one person with you, it's better safe than sorry," suggested the old knight. Page raised an eyebrow not convinced that someone else should be tagging along.

"Who then? No offense Walter but your highly noticeable and Ben is as subtle as a flying brick," said Darius, toying with his mask.

"Hey!"

"Shut up Ben,"

"We need someone small and quick, who knows how to cover someones back"

The group all turned to look at Izzy who was too busy stroking the prince's dog to pay attention. Looking up, she noticed they were all staring at her.

"What? Did I miss something?" she asked, earning a groan from Walter.

"We need an extra person to go with the prince and Page, three people should be enough in case you have to fight your way out," explained Walter, ignoring the fact the hero is training wasn't paying one bit of notice to them.

The resistance leader handed over a large, brown package without looking her in the eye. It was soft and seemed to hold clothes inside

"We only have male suits small enough to fit you," she said bitterly. Izzy opened up crumbled paper bag, staring inside and being visually assaulted by the mix of colours inside.

"Guess I don't get a choice then," she huffed hoping to catch a quick nap.

"It'll keep Walter from following us there knowing if we had back up,"

Page appeared as someone had just forced her to drink a whole tankard of dweller whiskey, not happy with being watched by a person who disliked her.

"Fine it's agreed then, Izzy will be our backup, you and Darius will take a coach to Millifields and meet me there now everyone get out so I can change," snapped Page.

"I'll stay here in case anyone tries to peek," said Ben.

"Out,"

The group left the room, laughing at Ben's failed attempts to get into Pages good graces. They trudged through the sewer, hoping this plan would go off without a hitch. Then again, in this world nothing is ever simple.

_**I am not passing up the opportunity for Izzy to meet Reaver. I wanted to do something different but decided to just throw her in the party anyway. **_

_**TheLastOneHome**_


	9. Crashing The Party

Chapter Nine

Crashing The Party

_**And now, for a spot of Reaver, in the delightful wheel of misfortune. Man, that dude is so evil but so awesome at the same time.**_

The rebel prince waited outside the sparring room trying not to listen to the grumbling inside. His dog darted around the area occasionally stopping to paw at the ground for something interesting. They were getting ready for the party which required everyone to dress up in the awful fancy clothes. Darius thought back to his days in the castle watching the powdered wigs bob around in the garden like well-bred chickens. How they would stand and talk about the most trivial nonsense, trying to impress each other on how rich they were. It seemed so far away now; he'd only left the castle a month ago. Ben sat opposite the prince having been thrown out the base room and nowhere else to go. The sparring room door opened revealing a multi coloured costume and an annoyed Izzy.

The coat itself was a bright purple colour with golden swirls stitched on to give a more regal look but just ended looking tacky. The trousers were a cream colour that hugged around the calf area much to Izzy's irritation having to wear annoying white stockings. The shoes were nothing but glorified loafers with a completely pointless buckle on them. A mask of a wolf obscured most of her face; it was a deep black colour with a few grey lines mixed in.

"I look like a prat," she stated after they stood in silence after a few moments. Darius opened his mouth to say something but stopped knowing nothing would help in this situation. From the other side of the sewer tunnel, the Captain let out a snort of laughter.

"I hate my job," mumbled Izzy, joining the well-dressed prince who graciously offered his arm out.

"Have fun, don't die," called out Ben as they exiting the sewers. They walked up the docking area with the hungry eyes of Bowerstone industrial following them. The coach for them to take to Reavers manor waited outside the local pub, the coach driver already downing a pint of ale.

"Was wonderin' when 'cho two were gonna turn up," he grumbled, flinging his mug onto the floor. Inside a barmaid glared out the coach driver who did nothing in response apart from burp loudly. The two heroes loaded themselves into the carriage trying to find comfort in the hard leather seats. Shadow had been left in the headquarters with Ben seeing as they couldn't really justify a dog in the manor. The sound of a whip sprang through the air and the carriage sprang to life, moving down the unsteady streets.

Fidgeting with the ruffles of her shirt, Izzy unhappily gazed out the window watching the dreary landscape.

"Had you hoped to wear something less… manly?" asked Darius, trying to start some form of conversation.

"Yes. Although I'm not one for dresses either," replied Izzy "I'm tired of being mistaken for a sixteen year old boy as well."

Darius laughed making the other hero smile in return; they remained silent for the remainder of the journey, letting Izzy take in the sites of Albion for the first time. It was a very beautiful place. Open, welcoming and barely marred by the industrial age, sky's clear and air fresh ninety per cent of the time.

She thought back to London, how there were thousands of people each day trying to get someone, clogging up the paths and roads. The rattle of trains moving constantly through the city, the noise of live squashed together always going on. In that world everything seemed so… packed. Here in Albion there were plenty more things to kill you off. Plus the general population seemed to control how many children they had. Albion didn't seem such a bad place to be stuck in. As they arrived in Millifields the new hero almost leaned out the carriage in awe. Even though night had descended upon the posh village, there was no denying its beauty when highlighting by the oil lamps. The lake reflected the stars and half-moon, soon flat and still it was almost like someone had stolen them and placed them on the ground. It made the whole place seemed more welcoming, even though the rather large and out of place manor did almost spoil the beauty. Almost.

The two exited the carriage, Darius watching as Izzy jogged forward and standing on top of the hill overlooking the area. Page came out from the shadows, stood beside the rebel prince and watched the young woman in a curious manner.

"Why is she doing that?" asked the rebel leader, annoyed that they weren't already in the manor.

"I think that's her first time seeing the lake, Swift told me she hasn't got any memories before turning up at Mourningwood a week ago," explained Darius, quite happy to let Izzy run her hands over the grass for a few seconds. Page remained quiet, unable to find fault with anyone that couldn't remember who they truly were.

"Izzy we have to go," called the prince. The young woman turned for the lake shore waved and ran back to her comrades.

The trio quickly walked passed the guard trying to look as casual as possible. Izzy paused for a moment looking by at a rather large statue standing outside the manor.

"Is that Reaver?" she asked.

"Yes, he likes to show off," answered Darius.

"Don't think he's overcompensating?"

"I've heard he doesn't have to,"

"Heard?"

The rebel prince turned around to see his follow hero cheekily grin over. The pair quickly collapsed into giggles much to the annoyance of Page. The heroes tried to remain quiet but just ended up silently laughing, shaking a little. They composed themselves enough when entering the manor, greeted by a rather ugly ginger man wearing servant clothes.

"Bit late, aren't you?" said the butler, eyeing them all with a rather prevented eye "you've missed half the rituals and all the drinking. All we've got left is fizzy pop." The trio glanced around at the nobles sprawled across the floor, clutching their stomachs and groaning. Clearly they had had too much drink.

"We apologise," said Page, not sounding sorry at all.

"Oh yeah? Well if you just give us the password, we'll forget all about it, all right?

"The…password?" asked Page, suddenly becoming nervous. Izzy placed her hand on the hilt of her sword.

"Nah! I'm just pulling your leg! Come on in!" laughed the butler, starting to move through the manor. The new hero swiftly dodged a drunk man throwing up in a pot plant, unamused by the amount of drunk people in the house.

"Master Reaver will be happy to have a few more conscious people around for the final ceremony. I wasn't joking about the fizzy pop, though. These lightweights drank the lot. There's probably some cooking sherry left in the kitchen, if you're desperate. No? Don't blame you. Never touch the stuff myself-well, except in the mornings of course," explained the manservant, apparently not able to shut up. Izzy was just trying wrap her head around the way he managed to switch his 'r's' and 'w's'.

Izzy managed to catch the words 'nice orgy' from the man before Page swiftly told him to shut up. She snorted at Darius's utterly shocked expression apparently not used to such vulgar suggestions. They moved through the manor coming to a stop outside two great doors. The butler turned to them before opening the doors, eyeing their equipment.

"It's just this way. Oh, you'll have such fun! Well, not drinks and orgies fun, you know, but it'll be a real laugh, I'm sure. Now there are some ground rules. Master Reaver _insists_ that nobody carries weapons in the ballroom. There have been some accidents before," explained the ginger man, eyeing Izzy's slightly glowing blade.

"I'm afraid I need to keep mine," Page said in a firm manner "I'm here to find some friends."

_Oh, that's bloody smooth,_ thought the hero, _why don't we just advertise we're rebels._ She was annoyed at how the rebel leader didn't seem to understand the concept of a disguise or back up story.

"Oh! You're the brave noble rebels," exclaimed the butler, "Why didn't you say so? I'm an oppressed proletarian myself! We're practically _comrades." _

_Somehow the trio doubted that, staring at the man's rather fine servant's outfit. Yeah, this guy really had it bad. _

_"_If you just go through these doors, you can sneak past the party and rescue your fellow revolutionaries."

Page and Darius went in first, leaving Izzy to stare at the butler through her mask. He had those mismatched eyes, Heterochromia, that screamed he shouldn't be trusted. The man merely gave a sly smile back before bowing for her to enter the room to. Suspended in the middle was a rather large cage, holding a man who didn't look happy about being rescued. This screamed there was a trap waiting for them.

"Darius, I think this is going terribly wrong," said Izzy, taking out her sword while Page talked to the man being held prisoner, Kidd, who shouted that they should leave and everyone else was dead. She jogged back to the doors, trying to pull them open. No use, dead bolted. Who the hell dead bolted their ballroom doors? The doors on the upper level of the room swung open and in walked the Reaver wearing the usual white suit and a purple mask.

"Well, well, if it isn't the rebels, persistent, brave and bloody annoying," said the man who had brought misery to hundreds of children.

"Better annoying than an egotistical nutter," mumbled Izzy, gripping her sword tightly not liking the look of the wheel at the head of the room. Reaver's eyes zeroed in on the rebel had spoken.

"I see no glory in dying at a young age to prove a point young man, since when do children fight a rebels cause," Reaver answered, watching as the rebel threw of his expensive looking purple coat with disgust. Apparently nobody has any taste anymore.

"I'm twenty-four," Izzy snapped back, ripping off the ruffled shirt and revealing herself to be wearing her plain white army one. If she was going fight it out of this place, at least she would go out not looking like a fool.

"Well aren't we the youthful one," said Reaver, the guests all laughed as if he were telling a joke. He turned to Page who was still aiming her gun towards him.

"Why can't you people just enjoy life?" he asked in a pitying manner. Darius remained silent worried that the businessman would recognise him. After all, the old king did still indulge in a conversation with Albion's most prolific pirate. Although at times it was highly volatile. During their meetings, the old king and Reaver would either drink and recount old times or point a gun at each other for the entire meeting. They had a very strange friendship. The remaining hero was too busy listening to the noises from the adjuring rooms, inhuman snarls and the sound of unearthly screeches echoed through while Reaver gave a monologue about the jagged wheel at the front of the room. She was really starting to miss her old world, at least there she had less chance of being mauled to death by a nightmarish creature. This wasn't a game anymore, this was real, and this could kill. There was no coming back if something hit her in the right place. This was a fight for survival. Reaver smiled down at the trio, eyes glinting through the mask.

"Let the games begin," he said.

OooooOoooooOo

A few hours later, a few cuts and bruises, the group were once again standing in the ballroom before a rather annoyed looking businessman. Apparently them still being alive wasn't part of the plan. Darius smelt of smoke after a bandit set his coat on fire, his hair now singed at the ends. A nasty burn mark was on his hand from pulling off the highly flammable material. The resistance leader was sporting a rather nasty cut on her left arm after a hobbe managed to get a hit in, Page had torn off a part of her dress to quickly bandage the wound. The most annoying thing was, whilst they were fighting for their live, Barry Hatch wouldn't shut up. A running commentary the entire time they fought greatly angered the group.

Izzy really hated the hobbes, they were nasty little squashed creatures that moved quite fast. For things with such stubby legs they sure knew how to dodge a sword strike. She leaned against the wall, limbs aching and jaw beginning to swell a little. A bandit managed to land a punch after she tripped over one his comrade's corpses. Luckily none of them managed to get any serious injuries from this twisted game.

"You half-wits! You've ruined everything! You were supposed to die! Instead, this game lingers on, and my guests grow…restless," said Reaver, tapping the cane he didn't need against the platform in annoyance. The other hero mumbled something, unable to speak clearly after the furious punch.

"What did she say?" asked Page, watching Barry harass a guest.

"She said she doesn't like the sound of that," translated Darius, earning a thumbs up from the dark haired woman.

"Arrgh! Reaver!" screamed the manservant, arm in the grip of an inhuman hand. It was covered in coarse hair and clawed. The woman Barry had tried to hit on was transforming into a horrific beast akin to a werewolf. The horrible poufy dress was ripped to shreds, arms elongated into stronger limbs donned with claws. Angry yellow eyes glared down at the trio was the creatures malformed face opened up to reveal a set of towering, sharp teeth.

Soon the butler fell silent and the rest of the guests were shedding their human guises, leaving tattered clothes across the entire platform. Reaver looked over crossly at the one who killed his servant.

"Oh you simpletons, do you have any _idea_ how hard it is to get good hired help these days!" he snapped, tapping his cane once again in anger. He turned to the trio and smirked down, looking sinister as the wolf-like creatures flanked him.

"What's the point of a secret society without a little secret, after all?" he quipped, watching in pleasure as the rebels closed ranks. Izzy mumbled something again as they were back to back with each other.

"What did she say?" asked Page, utterly terrified of the creatures about to attack.

"That she's really beginning to fucking hate this guy," said Darius, a little appalled at the language but couldn't agree more.

"What are these things?" cried Page, as they began to join the group on the floor. The former guests started circling the group who remained close together.

"Balverines, from my father's stories," said Darius, swinging his mighty hammer and embedding the head of one beasts into the floor. Izzy rolled away just as one took a swipe at her and buried her sword in its throat. Reaver would make comments occasionally while the group tried not to get slaughtered. The rebel prince shot a balverine right in the back of the head as it cornered Page. The other hero fought off one balverine that kept her on the defence unable to land any form of attack.

Izzy tried not to give into the strain of fighting such a beast. Humans she could handle… but this… no way could she continue on. This was too quick in monster slaying, highly unprepared for such monstrous creatures. Hollow men had been fine, they were slow and clumsy. Balverines were proving to be strong, agile and bloody fast. Her jaw pulsed as the pain kept her more focused. Darius had done a quick run through of using will in the carriage in case they had to fight their way out. Apparetnly when panicking, will wouldn't come on command nor be as focused. Sometimes it will completely stop working depending on what mood the user was in. At the moment, Izzy was screaming inside her head trying to parry long claws and remember her training. The adrenaline coursing through her veins was shouted to fight on, that she could win this.

Until she slipped across the blood that was coating the floor, beginning to fall backwards as the creature powered forward. It felt like everything was going in slow motion as she fell. The gaping jaws of the balverine. The rebels yelling her name. Reavers laugh. The sharp claws slicing across her chest like a knife through butter, ripping away her shirts fabric. It collided together in one chaotic mess that when time picked up again, her body jarred against the floor and the beast ready to jump down upon its victim.

In one last ditch attempt to stay alive, Izzy thrust her sword upwards as the hairy creature descended. It caught it right in the jaw, slicing through to the top of the head. The body collapsed onto her, winding her some more, it's stink of wet dog smearing all over her.

"Izzy," shouted Darius, beginning to heave the monsters body off his friend. Even Page helped. Three claw marks started from the base of her throat and ended at the top of her breast, blood trickling out at a slow pace. They weren't too deep but they needed to be treated quickly.

"Can you stand?" asked Darius. Izzy nodded, pulling the shreds of her shirt up more before her breast were exposed any further. She slowly got up from the floor, leaning against the rebel prince and wincing in pain.

Reaver tutted up from the platform looking down at the carnage below, impressed that none of them managed to die. Even though the small, thin one almost got skewered, such a shame the heroes came out fine.

"Well, I must say, you've made me out to be a rather poor host. Rather rude of you to dispose of my guests," he scolded. Page stepped forward drawing out her gun that amazingly still had bullets.

"Now it's your turn," hissed the rebel leader, pulling the trigger. Reaver merely lifted up his cane and deflected the bullet; it fell back down onto the ground, bouncing against the floor before rolling of somewhere. Even through pain and blood loss, Izzy was a little impressed.

"Oh my dear girl, why not stop all this unpleasantness and go up to my quarters? The four of us could have a private party," he suggested winking at them all, seemingly oblivious to one hero wounds.

"Do you have any idea who this is?" snapped Page, angrily pointing at the rebel prince who was now propping up Izzy "this is Logan's brother, the prince."

Reavers eyes flashed in amusement, clearly happy about this little revelation. He waved his hand in a dismissive manner.

"The king's brother, a bona fide Hero. Well, I'd never come between such public sibling rivalry…well that's not strictly true, there was that one time…anyway, have fun with this revolutionary lark! Tatty bye!" said the ruthless man, opening the doors behind him and strolling out the room without so much as a glance back even when Page began shooting at him again.

"Reaver!" shouted the rebel leader, adding a few curses at the end. Izzy mumbled something again, clutching her weeping chest.

"What!?" snapped Page.

"She said," began Darius "as much as she'd like to listen to you swear at a man who has already walked away, she'd rather not bleed to death."

Reluctant to leave the manor, they walked out, leaving the blood and death behind.

_**I just really like beating Izzy up. She can't just dance through the world without being kicked about a bit. Plus, I find it a little amusing. Anyway, hope you enjoyed.**_

_**TheLastOneHome**_


	10. Death In The Family

Chapter Ten

Death In The Family

_**So, talk of boobs up ahead but that's because Izzy's shirt has been torn to pieces, Darius needs to treat the claw marks though. I just like making him awkward. Also, sadness ahead if you couldn't tell by the title. Thanks for the reviews; they make me warm and fuzzy. Now get a cup of tea and enjoy. **_

Outside, the rebel prince propped his fellow hero against a statue in manor, examining the chest wound. True, they weren't that deep but blood had already seeped into Izzy's white shirt, leaving it a new, horrific colour. Pulling out a spare healing potion, Darius tried out to blush as looked at the tattered shirt. The younger hero mumbled something through her sore jaw.

"Here drink it first, that way you can talk," said the prince, ripping off a piece of his costume and dousing the fabric potion. He handed it over; watching as Izzy took a mouthful, swished it around her for a moment and then swallowed. After a few minutes the swelling started to go down and appeared unblemished once again. Darius quickly poured some potion over his burnt hand, watching it fade into bright pink skin.

Raising a hand up, Izzy traced the area now healed noticing it had a little effect on the chest wounds that the prince dabbed at.

"I said you can remove my shirt if you want. The wounds are further down and it's ruined anyway," commented Izzy, her jaw still feeling a little stiff. Darius flushed watching as the top half of the chest wound healed. He reached into his pack that he carried at all times, pulling out a spare shirt.

"Jasper, my servant, always makes me carry a spare one just in case," he said, looking around the early morning Millifields in case someone popped up suddenly. Page was standing in front of the duo anyway, blocking any view.

"Wow, its like your bag TARDIS," commented Izzy, smiling a little. Darius looked up confused.

"Never mind," she sighed, wincing in pain.

The sun had barely begun to the touch the lake, its yellow rays breaking out from behind the burnt orange sky. No one should be up any time soon, even the guard was snoring in his little booth. Embarrassed the prince began to unbutton the shirt, trying to cover what he could. The marks rested on top of most her breasts, one reaching just underneath it.

"Page, do you want to-" began Darius.

"I am no nurse. I can inflict wounds but I am no good at healing them," answered the rebel leader, more concerned with her fellow rebel who was relieving himself in the manor after getting out the cage.

"Stop being a wimp about it. Just do it," said Izzy, currently uncomfortable with the amount of pain in her chest. They really needed some form of pain killer in this world. The rebel prince sighed heavily beginning to gently soak the wounds in potion, trying to avert his eyes anywhere but his friends exposed breasts. After a few minutes of cleaning and applying healing potion, the open claws marks began to stitch together, the flesh zipping up quickly.

It felt behind three white scars that could not easily be ignored. Once healed, Darius flushed a crimson red, handing over the shirt without saying a word. He turned his back trying not think lewd thoughts about his comrade. Discarding the ruined one, Izzy flung on the other one giggling silently at her friend's uncomfortable manner. The shirt was a little big but Darius was well built with rather broad shoulders.

"It's ok now. I'm wearing a shirt," she said, patting the princes behind and winking at him. Darius turned a brighter shade of red, going over to talk with Page about promises whilst Izzy ran a finger over her new scars. Since coming to world, she had gathered more injuries in a week than in the years staying in the other world. The worst thing to happen to her was a fractured arm at seven when she fell off her bike. The foster home didn't believe it to be too serious, thinking it only a sprain until a trip to the hospital proofed otherwise.

She watched people emerge from their houses, looking over to the manor, fully dressed in noble wear. Obviously they didn't have anywhere important to go to or work for a living. Must a very boring life, gossiping and watching everything happen around you. The lake looked equally beautiful in the day time as it did in the night. It's clear waters showed the plants under the water, little fish swimming in and out of them.

"The pride of Albion, Bower Lake," said Darius, joining Izzy beside the shore. He waved off Page who nodded before taking her only surviving comrade away from the manor.

"I remember my father taking Logan and I here as children, we would spend hours swimming and coming up with silly games," he continued staring at the blue surface in a sad manner.

"He wasn't always a tyrant then, Logan?" questioned Izzy, not knowing much about the king they wished to depose. She only heard second hand accounts, seen the horrible conditions of Bowerstone Industrial.

"Five years ago, he was a beloved king, we were so close and he used to tell me everything. After our father died from an infected battle wound, he was the only family I had left. He used to go travelling everywhere, until one day he came with the most horrific scars," explained Darius, not looking Izzy in the eye. She listened not wanting to interrupt the prince pouring out his heart.

"He changed after coming back. No longer was he my loving older brother, who laughed and joked, a stranger had taken his place, a man who executed those who spoke out, hired Reaver, taxed the poor and made me…" the rebel prince broke off his voice cracking a little.

"What?" she asked before realising she was pressing into Darius's personal life.

"Sorry I didn't mean to-" she stammered out only to be waved off by the prince.

"No, it's fine. I think trying to push it out from my head is rather unhealthy," he answered smiling over at her.

"I haven't really talked about it not even to Walter, I'll tell you, if you'd listen,"

"I don't mind,"

So, the rebel prince explained, about his lost love Elise, fleeing the castle, risking everything to save a kingdom from his own brother. They sat on the edge of the lake, the sun beginning to rise higher in the sky, bathing the area in yellow rays.

"And here I am gathering allies, mending the wrongs Logan has commited," finished Darius, laying on the ground and watching the clouds go by.

"Do you think you'll forgive when the time comes?" she asked. The hero prince bit his bottom lip still staring up at the sky, sorrow flashing in his doe brown eyes. Izzy placed a comforting hand on his shoulder not wanting to push the subject any further. Although the prince was hurt by his brother's actions, he still loved him. Remembering the good things about Logan over all the bad things he had done showed hope that he could still be the man Darius once knew. Izzy knew about being alone in the world with no one to lean on for support. After her parent's death, it was foster homes and angry voices. No matter what family has done, you always want to save them. The sound of a bell tolling could be heard in the distance, growing closer to the two heroes.

They gazed upwards seeing a man in a bright red clothes yelling something about the king's speech beginning in the afternoon. The town crier proclaimed through Millifields it was hard not to ignore it.

"I think we should go back to headquarters and go to the castle find out what this is about," said Darius beginning to walk away from the lake. Izzy sighed, stealing one last look before following him. She wanted to stay beside the calm and undisturbed lake; it fought off the sinking feeling in her stomach.

OoooOooooooooOOOO

They arrived at the headquarters in time to see them all wander around the sewer with unrest. Apparently the king was calling all citizens to the castle but not telling them why. Whispers bounced off the closed walls, growing stronger as they debated more. Izzy quickly changed into her usual trousers, deciding not to take her jacket or weapons; it would look to suspicious to the guards. Even Darius noted that he shouldn't take his hammer, since it wasn't at all subtle. Ben, however, complained he felt naked without a gun and hid his pistol, choosing to take that over his beloved rifle. Izzy really thought that some form of relationship was taking place between the soldier and that rifle. Too many creepy strokes and whispers happened for there not to be.

"See you collected a few more scars," commented the blonde soldier, nodding at the marks on the base of her throat.

"It's a dangerous hobby, I might trade it for stamps though I heard paper cuts really sting," she replied, hugging Ben. It felt nice after the incident at the manor, a familiar smell of gunpowder and earth. They broke away smiling at each other leaned in a little more before realising what they were doing and jumped apart as if being shocked.

"Well, let's hope we shot our enemies before they lay a finger or claw on us," said Ben, joining Darius by the door. The trio were the ones going to castle to see what the fuss was about. Walter wanted to go to but he would be recognised to easily. He refused to shave his famous beard in an effort to look a little more unnoticeable. This caused a few arguments with him finally backing down once Darius promised he would personal report what happened. Shadow wasn't happy, the collie sat grumpily in the map room not obeying his masters calls. Being left multiple times was making the dog sad.

They left the sewers, greeting by the industrial foggy morning, trying not to cough at the amount of dust floating around. The locals were already filing towards the castle, the ground a buzz with chatter.

"How is the magic going?" asked Darius, as they delved deep into the crowd in an attempt not to be noticed by the guards. Izzy pulled a face that indicated that not much effort had gone into learning more about will since the last time she used it.

"I don't think I'm very good at it," she admitted, being jostled by a few drunks in the crowd.

"Why?" asked the prince, a dark cloud setting over his eyes as they approached the castle.

"When I'm really angry or scared, I can summon it. But I can't find the point between which allows me to control it," explained the hero. Darius nodded knowing how difficult it was the first he used it.

"Maybe you just need some training, I know I said it last time but once we get back we will start it," promised the prince as they climbed the stairs up to the castle.

The trio stalked through the crowd, gently pushing people aside to gain access to a clearer view on what was happening. The crowd muttered, their whispers wrapping around the group in an uncomfortable manner. A small buzz of fear and excitement travelled through the people who wanted to know what was happening. Izzy lifted her head to see the king of Albion appear on the balcony. The crowd gave off a mix of boo's, cheers and hisses as the king stood proudly before them. He called nothing like the posters which were plastered all over the walls. Instead he appeared thinner and gaunter, dark circles under his eyes showing a lack of sleep. The only thing that remained true to the posters was his harsh look as if he were ready to slaughter them all on a whim. Beside her both Ben and Darius tensed up. The king silenced the ground with a wave of his gloved hand.

"People of Albion!" boomed his voice, stretching out to the people gathered at the back. Dark clouds started to roll in overhead, a faint crackle of thunder could be heard in the distance.

"There are traitors among us," continued the king. The trio glanced at each other in a sheepish manner, the crowd staring up in confusion. Rain started to lightly pour over the crowd as the thunder grew louder.

"Yes, traitors. Traitors who plot to end us. Traitors who would have you believe their cause is noble. They wear many masks. They may look like your family, they may look like your friends. They may even look like your most loyal servants," proclaimed the king, staring down at the crowd before clapping his hands. A small group of guards pulled a prisoner out on the ground, pushing him forward for all to see. For a brief moment, Izzy's heart stopped completely. Major Swift stood before the crowd, utterly beaten black and blue.

One eye was swollen shut but he stood with the pride he could muster before the people. Ben stepped forward his fists clenched so tightly together the white of his knuckles were showing. Both heroes grabbed onto him, hoping he wouldn't try anything. Because no matter how much they wanted to save the man up there, they couldn't. All they could was watch this sick show continue. This proud man, the one who saved her, was being paraded around in barely again, completely defeated. How could someone like be Major Swift be brought down to this? Izzy looked up, wanting to do something but knowing it was entirely fruitless. Ben was tense glaring at the king, who watched from the balcony lapping up the crowds reaction.

"This is the face of a traitor. Major Swift, a respected member of the army and sworn servant of the kingdom, has plotted against us all. He was apprehended attempting to turn loyal soldiers against us, and is thus charged with espionage, treason, and conspiracy," spat the king, watching the crowd begin to shuffle around uneasily.

"Let this be a warning to you all. Anyone suspected of plotting against the kingdom will suffer the same fate as Major Swift. The fate of all enemies of the crown," finished Logan, intently watching the people below rather than Swift. The guard beside Swift lifted a gun up to the Majors head, who hadn't wavered since being paraded outside in virtually nothing.

Izzy quickly squeezed her eyes shut, holding tightly to Ben who was shaking. A shot rang out across the courtyard and a body slumping onto the floor. A few people gasped, others screamed and some even began to weep. She opened her eyes to see Logan turn away back into the castle and Swifts blood spread across the courtyard, mixed in with the rain water. Lightening crackled through the sky, taking thunder as its dance partner. The guards began to walk away leaving the Majors body alone in the dirt.

The sickness rose in her stomach again, doing flips and clenching her heart. It felt like it was breaking, a cavernous hole beginning to form within it. Ben let out a small cry of anguish as the duo kept a firm grip on his arms, moving back through the crowd. The sky opened up, raining harder than before as if it to weep for the lost Major. Its fat tears pelted against the ground, unrelenting in its feelings. The crowd moved more slowly, staying silent after what they had just witnessed, unable to find words for it.

Darius had gone a deathly white colour, keeping a firm grip on his friends arm but unable to get rid of the utter look of shock on his face.

"Why didn't we do anything?" asked Ben, finally finding his words again but couldn't get rid of his blank stare.

"There was nothing we could do," answered Izzy. They were a few good yards away from the castle but guards were still watching the crowd. Ben wrenched his arms away from the heroes, glaring at them both. There was hatred, loss and grief burning within his eyes. She wanted to look away, feeling personally blamed for her friends death.

"You two are meant to save people," he accused, blonde hair now plastered to his distraught face.

"What's the point of you if you can't even do that!?" he shouted.

Izzy and Darius looked at each other sadly knowing they couldn't explain this to the grieving man without coming off cold hearted. They couldn't just pick battles they couldn't win. If they even tried to save the beloved major, the duo would've been captured and Swift would have died twice. There is no other excuse than trying to preserve their survival.

"Hey, isn't that Ben Finn?" said someone in the crowd. Darius quickly grabbed the mourning soldier and hurried him through the crowd. A few more voices began to pick up as they soon started speed walking away.

"That's another traitor!" yelled someone pointing over at the trio. The guards started shoving people aside, trying to find the source of the commotion. They soon spotted the trio trying to exit the area.

"Run!" yelled Izzy, pushing Ben forward. Shots rang out through the courtyard, people screamed as bullets whizzed passed the trio, ricocheting off the houses.

They ducked down into a nearby alley watching the guards run forward in a bid to catch up with them. Izzy's heart pounded against her chest as they waited in the shadows, Ben taking out his rifle and loading it. One guard managed to spot them, sending the group further into the alleys hoping the darkness could cloak them from the pursuing guards. Only matter of moments after Swifts death and they were already running for their lives. Izzy couldn't help but think about how she didn't want to end up like Swift. It was horrible but true. Only they weren't getting anywhere with this chasing than circles, if they headed towards headquarters they would end up in leading the guards there. Eventually they would be captured. Izzy ran her hands across a house wall, touching the cold water pipe. She had a truly stupid idea that might work as she started to climb up the pipe, ignoring her inner thoughts screaming for her to rethink this.

"Ben, I'm going to distract the guards, on my signal, I want you to stay to the alleys and make your way to headquarters with Darius, we can't lose him, if I'm not back soon assume I've been taken," she instructed.

"I am not leaving you," he hissed grabbing her around the arm. His fingers squeezed, desperately trying to hang on to her. Izzy smiled weakly, quickly kissing him on the cheek.

"If anyone knows how to escape a sticky situation it is you, I don't know this place as well as you, now go" she said, lightly pushing him back. Darius tried to stop his fellow hero but she was already half way up the pipe. Soon, they watched as she pulled herself onto the roof, disappearing out of sight. Izzy shielded her eyes from the lashing rain, staring down at the area, watching the guards shout orders. They ran around like purple ants, checking down at alleys for their prey. The hero put her fingers her mouth, letting out a loud whistle. The town below looked up at the hero standing on the roof.

"Come and get me you second rate store guards!" she yelled, running forward and jumping onto the next home as the bullets starting in her direction. Trying to remember the rules of free running, Izzy flew through the air, landing messily on the next roof. Hopefully most guards would be distracted by her that Ben and Darius could slip away. It was a fools hope but the only one they had. In this fight, Darius had to be saved or all was lost. Slipping across the wet roofs, she ran onto the next roof, jumping onto it and trying not to stop running. She heard the guards yell below, each bullet miraculously missing each time. They were really crappy shots, which taken into account, was a very good thing. Darting down the side of the next roof, she landed onto the cobbled ground, falling over in the process.

The guards due in close, guns pointed at the hopeless hero. Slowly raising her hands, Izzy knew that using magic wouldn't work. To many people gathered, they could get hurt by being in the wrong place at the wrong time. They watched sadly as the rain soaked hero looked up at the dark sky for a moment smiling.

"It's really not going well for me today is it?" she said, the guards beginning to advance closer.

"At least the rain feels nice," she continued, not paying attention to the guards. A young girl pushed the front watching as the guards formed a thick circle around their prisoner, watching with wide eyes.

A real life hero being chased down by guards didn't seem like the stories. The child stared as the hero feel to their knees, eyes fixed on the sky. The crowd did nothing. Izzy burnt the image of the grey clouds in her mind, closing her eyes as the rain beat down on her pale skin. This was the first and probably last time she'd prove herself to be a hero, someone they could believe in. Someone who stood up against the oppressive regime and showing the common folk they could fight for what was right. A guard stepped forward, ramming the butt of his gun into her head, sending her tumbling into darkness.

_**So sad times and sacrifice, I wonder how that will turn out?... Well, actually I do but you guys have to wait. I'm also debating whether to hike the rating to M for later chapters. Let me know what you guys think. **_

_**TheLastOneHome**_


	11. That Old Game Torture

Chapter Eleven

That Old Game Torture

_**There is torture ahead, which you know, is always fun. I'm pretty sure I'm just going out of my way to harm my OC now. I am a cruel writer. **_

It was another dream in the Spire again; Izzy looked out at the silver ocean knowing that the king wouldn't send her on a little holiday. Plus before coming to the Spire she was having a dream about being yelled at by Alan Rickman in school for not getting the math answer right. Sometimes the mind threw together some random stuff.

"You have been captured," stated Theresa appearing in a swirl of blue and appearing pissed off. Izzy folded her arms raising an eyebrow.

"One of us needed to distract the guards," she answered. The blind woman shook her head tutting at the young hero's foolish and impulsive behaviour.

"You cannot fulfil your destiny locked away or dead," scolded the seer, having used a great amount of magic in order to bring one hero bloodline back to Albion.

"Really? Because I thought being dead would be really help the cause," snapped Izzy.

"I cannot help you,"

"I wasn't asking,"

"You should have let the soldier do it,"

"Well, in Swifts books, I was one of them, a soldier; I wasn't going to sacrifice my family for my own means,"

"You are a hero,"

"So everyone keeps telling me but I'm apparently not doing a very good job!"

Theresa sighed shaking her head; maybe introducing someone from another world had been a mistake. It added a cloudy future which she could not quite pinpoint. It was too late to turn back now, the magic had been done and Izzy was part of this world.

"Logan will not kill you like Swift. He knew the Major could not be broken. He will try with you. Survive and you may live to reach your destiny," explained the blind woman earning an eye roll from the hero still in training.

"No one bloody asked me if I wanted to meet this destiny," grumbled Izzy, staring out at the glittering ocean, not looking forward to waking. Funnily enough torture did not sound fun. This world was so dangerous and beautiful; with everything here was a price to pay. Being heroic and stupid at the same time would cost Izzy dearly. The spire became to pull away as the waking world slowly began to leak into her dreams. Someone yelling and a cold feeling passing over her entire body.

"See you another time, if I'm not dead," said Izzy.

OooOOoooooOO

Someone was pouring ice cold water over her head. The icy cold ran its fingers through her sodden hair, tracing down her spine. It soaked into the shirt, trickling down her back and pooling at her bare feet. Whoever was pouring the water had removed her shoes. Who the hell would do that? What was the point? They weren't nice ones, since they didn't have enough time to change at the headquarters. Maybe the fancy shoes weren't such a loss. But her feet were bloody cold now; maybe that was another form of torture. Give all the information you had in order not to have cold toes. Another wave hit forcing Izzy to open her eyes in time for a short sharp slap to the face. She noticed rope tied around her chest and ankles, binding her against a chair. The ground was cold and jagged, giving off an unwelcoming feel. The room stank of blood, urine and a little bit of crap. Nothing in Albion seemed to smell pleasant, always ending up in the most disgusting parts. Torture, however, made sure one did not come out smelling nice.

Thankfully she went before going to the execution, still happy about being able to use an actual toilet. Hopefully that wouldn't come back to bite her. Although, the torture would probably take priority in what was 'how could this get worse?' scenario.

"Come on Sleeping Beauty," called a gruff voice, banging the water bucket next to her ear. She gasped as another icy wave hit.

"Fucking hell, how many of those do you have!" she hissed, looking up through soggy hair at her abuser.

The men laughed throwing the bucket down and pointing at a few more in the tiny cramped cell. It was very large, basically a glorified broom cupboard with a few more nail scratches on the walls. Nice to see the place had some charm. It totally didn't give off 'you now have no hope' vibes. The man throwing water and slapping her smiled down at his prisoner seemingly ecstatic about having a new toy to play with. A few teeth were missing replaced by silver, pointed ones. He was tall, maybe going over the six foot mark but lanky. He had a potato shaped face, all lumpy with small squinty eyes and a few clumps of long hair. In other words, perfect torturer. No one in the light of day would want to see that face.

"Hello young man, I'm Rake, your torturer personally asked for by the king. It would seem you're in league in the resistance and the dearly departed Swift, who I had the pleasure of beating you black and blue," said the ugly man, pulling out a small leather book. Izzy clenched her fists, unable to summon any magic. Nothing flowed into the gaudlet, it didn't even spark. The gem within the palm was dead, no colour or glint to it. Despair washed over her, a small feeling of abandonment made Izzy realise she was really alone. Thankfully, the stupid guy thought she was a man again. Which in a case like this, she didn't really mind. There was a time and a place to be annoyed about that. This wasn't it. Rake flicked through the book, unaware of the prisoners loss or not caring.

"Now, you must be the one Swift found outside the fort since you're wearing that gaudlet Swift mentions in his journal, which by the way no man could get off your arm. Hmmmm… Ah yes hear it is, Isaac Taylor," said Rake, running a greasy finger down the page. Izzy glared at him from behind her wet hair not giving anything away. The torturer smiled closing the book, walking around his captive.

"You are a pretty one, bet the girls like you, although a few scars but girlies like a bad boy," said Rake, prodding the one on Izzy's forehead. She was annoyed at the touching part but thankful that the disguise of being a guy still worked. Seriously people were really thick in this world.

"Now I'm going to ask you a few questions, if you answer truthfully you get a quick, nice clean death, if I think your lying you get a nice bit of torture," said the ugly man, getting closer to the young heroes face and smiling. The silver teeth looked odd against the yellowing ones. They reflected her hard face trying not break under the prospect of losing fingers or being whipped until raw. Rake chuckled, barely an inch away from her face. She tried not gag at his stinking breath.

"Now let's begin, the king really doesn't want any time wasted, where are the rebels?" asked the torturer, getting straight onto the point. Maybe they hoped she was a coward, afraid to die before really living. They were in for a surprise.

Izzy shrugged trying to look casual, her heart beating above the normal average.

"Dunno, have you checked the local tavern?" she said, earning a swift strike to the face. The torturer chuckled going behind Izzy and picking up something from a table. It scratched against the surface, letting her know there was a whole world pain just inches away.

"I like the funny ones," mused Rake, "there so much more fun to break."

He shifted into view again; circling his victim making sure the thing in his hand wasn't seen before stepping out of eye line again.

"You know what my problem is?"

"You don't know how to please a woman?"

A spiked stone zoomed passed out the corner of her eye, smashing into her little finger. The hero screamed in pain, hearing the loud crack of the bone breaking. The breaking bone and scream bounced off the walls, becoming a new entity before fading away.

"Wow, you sure have a girly scream lad and very strange markings on your skin" said Rake, throwing and catching the stone as if it were a tennis ball. The potato faced man poked at the blue lines of will use on her skin. Goosebumps joined in with the pain, running up and down her body. Blood blossomed out the cut as the finger started to swell and turn red.

"No my problem is you good guys; you think you're so high and mighty, better than everyone else and nothing can touch you," explained potato face "but you're just like everyone else, so, breakable."

He brought the stone down on Izzy's ring finger, causing her cry out in pain, black spots dancing in front of her eyes. Rake looked through the book once again, laughing at the Majors notes.

"Says here that our dear Swift believed you could help save Albion and hoped he'd live long enough to see that. Hoped he'd picked the right team to play for, what do you think of that pretty boy?" he asked, throwing around the stone again.

"That you can't really read unless there are pretty pictures and are just making this up," she answered panting though the pain bracing herself for another hit. The stone broke her middle finger, slowly being painted in red.

"At one point you'll learn to answer back with the right answers,"

"Cruel way to teach someone,"

"Drives the point in,"

Her index finger was broken. Blood dribbled onto the ground below, coating her feet in red.

Izzy let out a cry of anguish, pain stabbing into her heart and completely taking over. It let out a small musical beat from her fingers, mocking the fact that they swelling to abnormal sizes. She vision kept shifting from white to black, little dots dancing in and out like demented jazz dancers. The thumb quickly followed forcing Izzy to glare through the burning pain. It was like there was a fire in her veins. Rake shrugged.

"Wanted to complete the set," he answered, in a dismissive tone.

"Breaking before questioning, that's not professional," said Izzy, hoping the pain would numb at point.

"I know they might have my license, oh, wait you don't need one for this," he laughed bringing the stone down the centre of her hand. Up in the castle, the staff tried to work through their daily routine. Screams kept reaching upwards, filtered through the walls as if they carrying a tragic message. The kitchen staff ignored the agonising yells coming from below, hoping that it would end for the poor soul soon.

OoooOoooOO

"We cannot leave her there!" snapped Ben, smashing his fist into the map table and glaring at the resistance leader. After the lads waited for in the dark for a bit while the guards chased after Izzy, they were able to slip away in the shadows and re-join the rebels. As soon as they were in the headquarters Darius slipped off saying something about a blind seer leaving the solider to explain everything to the anxious Walter and ever charming Page. The two had listened intently with the occasional interruption from the rebel leader demanding to know if Swift had given anything away. Ben really wanted to strike the woman down but his mother, rest her soul, had sadly taught him better. He was mourning the loss of his surrogate father; he wasn't ready to mourn a close friend.

After the explanation was done, Page quickly thanked Izzy for doing her part for the cause and started to talk about the next move, brushing it off like dust. This angered the soldier into almost breaking the map table and making the older knight jump. Never had Walter seen Ben in such a temper, usually he was a very calm man, rarely getting angry over anything.

"What do you suggest we do, go on a suicide mission!?" yelled Page, trying to stare down the taller soldier without much success. The tension in the room hit an all-time high as old knight unable to defuse it, merely sticking opening and closing his mouth like a goldfish. The duo glared at each other. Ben couldn't believe he used to have a thing for this woman. A complete bull head who wanted unrealistic things to happen in an instance no matter the consequence. Sure, she was strong, smart, witty and a good fighter. But apart from that, she was an utter self-centred fool.

"We have to get her out," came a voice from the doorway. They all turned to see Darius, lean against the frame, looking at Walter who looked relived to see the prince return. Hopefully he could knock so sense into the two allies before him.

"Why? I mean, I have nothing against the lass and would like to save her from a horrible fate but why?" asked the knight, staring at Albion's one true hope.

"I was visited by my father's guide. She stated that Izzy plays a pinnacle role in the events to come; her death will weaken our chances. We have a max of a week to get Izzy out before it is too late," explained Darius, ignoring death glares from both Ben and Page. One was annoyed how Izzy was only being saved to be used and other annoyed about such a foolhardy statement.

"If we go after a foolish girl we will only get ourselves killed," snapped Page.

"No one was asking you to go," hissed Ben.

"She isn't just a foolish girl, she is a hero and saved my life and yours, we owe her," said Darius coldly.

"We cannot just waltz into the castle for one person!" shouted Page. Ben raised his hand but Walter caught it, shaking his head.

"We waltzed into Reavers manor and almost died for your comrades, I see no difference," said Darius "you don't have come, Ben and I will handle this."

The rebel leader opened and closed her mouth again, dark eyes full of rage before storming out. Ben smiled smugly turning to Darius who had a dead pan face. He had seen too much, lost too much and gained little in return. If there was some form of higher power, he hoped that it would favour saving a dear friend.

"This mission will set back our goal by a few days," said Walter. The rebel prince looked up, brown eyes full of sorrow. There was a weight on his shoulders that no one could see or feel its burden. But the slump sung out to the old knight having seen it the old king many a time before.

"Would you ask me to abandon her?" asked Darius.

Beside him, the young captain tensed remaining silent in the matter in fear he would say something stupid. Walter sighed placing a hand on the princes should smiling lightly.

"I would ask you to do what you thought was the right thing to do," he answered giving Darius's shoulder a squeeze. The rebel prince smiled back weakly, turning towards his solider alley.

"It's me, you and Walter on this one but I need to you follow and do as I say. This can't be done if you lose your head," said the prince "will you follow me?"

The blonde soldier looked the prince in the eyes, blue meeting brown on a mutual ground. The gears in his head churned at what Darius was offering, knowing his troubles with highborn people. But what stood before Ben was the rebel prince, the man who gave up everything to save the common folk. A man who stood against his only family to prove that there was some good in the world. Someone worth following.

"I would follow you till the end," he answered. The pair nodded making a plan in how to rescue their damsel in distress.

OoooOooooooO

At the castle, the torture wasn't getting any better as it didn't do in all cases. Izzy kept answering back which resulted in the bones in her right arm being broken. Right now they were on the upper arm bones, the jagged stone in Rakes hand now drenched in her blood. The torturer was shaking his head sadly after wasting three hours trying to get something out of the stupid rebel. It would seem they were a stubborn lot, Skorm bent on going down some sort of martyr.

"You know you didn't have to do this?" said Reek, putting down the stone and looked at the swollen bleeding arm. He actually felt a little aroused by it, knowing his hand had caused this damage.

"Have you ever even felt the love of a woman? Even kissed a girl you liked? Being with these rebels will just get you killed before you even get to experience life," he continued gazing sadly into the boys eyes as if to genuinely pity him.

"Are you going to kill me or just talk me to death?" rasped the boy, his throat raw from all the screaming. Rake signed, pressing down on the broken bones of the lower arm. Another cry of pain joined the chorus of screams.

"So ready to embrace death so quickly," signed the man. Izzy leaned forward against the ropes, ready reach that last moment. At least the guys were safe, they would make things right again. A tingling feeling ran up and down her left arm. Frowning, she looked over as Rake rattle off about some bullshit about giving it all up to live a normal life. Logan would be really grateful, Logan would reward her, Logan this, Logan that. Izzy wondered if Rake realised his massive man crush on the tyrant king. Staring down at her unbound wrists, Izzy noticed that her gaudlet was faintly glowing. For the passed three hours her magic seemingly had failed her, abandoning when needed most. Now the jewel glowed a light orange waiting to be used. The hero clenched her fist, smiling faintly before putting a plan into action.

"Ok," she whispered, interrupting the torturers monologue. The potato headed man turned smiling broadly at his prisoner.

"I'll tell," she said, speaking softly as possible "just no more."

Rake leaned in eagerly, triumphant over his win. The power slowly built up in Izzy's hand, pulsing as Rake leaned.

"It's all right lad, just whisper to me, I know this has been tough on your voice box," said the man. Izzy nodded weakly, readying her hand as the orange glow began to burn brighter.

"You'll find," she began.

"Yes," said Rake nodding eagerly.

"That you are a fucking idiot,"

Before the ugly man could react, the hero lifted up her hand enough just to press it against his chest, pouring all the fire power she had into it. Rake choked as the fire ate away at his cheap clothes, melting his flesh and gnawing through bones. The magic pouring out would not stop until it completely ruined him. Their eyes met, washed out grey ones meeting the burning blue ones, full of hate and revenge. As the will did its magic, the man stared into the boys soft face as he smiled in a sadistic manner.

"By the way, I'm a woman," she said, wrapping her hand around his heart with a flame enchanted fist pulling with all her might. Wrenching it out of his chest, he fell onto the blood soaked ground; the last image burning in his mind was his heart in the woman's hand.

"Well, what do you, it is black, she commented, letting the dark lump fall next to the body it used to belong to. Quickly scorching through the ropes, Izzy grunted in pain as she tried not to jostle her arm too much. Escaping would now be the hard part since the place was swarming with guards and she was very injured, standing on tiptoes, she stared out of the rooms barred window, seeing no lackeys anywhere nearby. Maybe not many prisoners got out. Unlatching the door, she slipped into the shadows outside and gently closed the door behind as if not to disturb a slumbering person. Of course, corpses didn't wake up often unless they became hollow men.

She cautiously moved alongside the wall down the narrow corridor, seeing a faint sliver of sunshine at the end. Pushing the pain away once more, she jogged to the end, peering through the bars. There were some grey steps leading upwards where two guards were stationed at the front. Lighting up her hand again, Izzy slowly opened the door before moving quietly up the stairs. The guards were chatting about their low pay as a fire ball powered through each of their chests.

Nearby a noble woman screamed as the smoking corpses fell to the floor and a filthy, rather feral looking person stepped out from the morning shadows. Their arm was being held in an awkward manner as they ran across the courtyard throwing fireballs out as a distraction. The servants sprang into action as the fire began to burn up the garden, throwing buckets of water on the flames. Guards rushed forward, only to dance backwards from the consuming hells. Izzy jumped over a hedge aiming for Bowerstone, hoping she could lose any pursers in the alleys.

"Not one more step or your pretty head will be blown right off!" called a familiar voice. Izzy groaned, stopping in her tracks and turned her head. Standing in a familiar white suit was Reaver, pointing a gun at the hero.

After hearing the stories about this guy, the young woman decided against running any further.

"Oh, fuck me," she groaned, kneeling on the ground in defeat. Reaver smiled, continuing to point the gun.

"I'd love to but someone wants a word first, young lady" said the deviant, stepping aside. A purple figure was powering up towards the defeated rebel as the fire burnt brighter. King Logan was storming out the castle, glaring at the young woman. The king stopped just beside Reaver who leaned forward and whispered something in his ear. Logan's frown deepened for a moment, lookin at the businessman as if he were insane. He looked down at her for a few moments before turning to the guards.

"Bring her into the castle,"

_**I haven't really explored Izzy's dark side. You know the whole good and evil thing having an effect on your moral standing in the game. Anyway, it'll probably pop up again. What will the king do? He thought he had a young soldier in the castle not a hero woman. Till next time.**_

_**TheLastOneHome**_


	12. The Tyrant King

Chapter Twelve

The Tyrant King

_**Reaver, the king, torture, its not going very well for Izzy at this point. On with the show, now that Izzy must appear before the king. Thanks for all the favs, follows and reviews, you guys are awesome.**_

She was pushed through the castle, right arm still in agony as nearly every bone had been broken. Apparently good old fashioned hot poker and whipping torture hadn't been enough for some. The elite guards were flanked at each side, making sure the hero was boxed in at all times. The servants in the castle slowed down on their work trying to catch a glimpse of the escapee who set the garden on fire with magic.

No one had ever escaped the dungeons before, let alone set alight the royal garden. Although they didn't voice their opinions, everyone working in the castle was impressed. The guards took turns in pushing Izzy forward, delighting in causing more pain. Reaver's top hat bobbed about in the front of the group as he continued to talk with the king. Izzy bit her bottom lip trying to get passed the pain in her arm, trying not to trip up from exhaustion.

The entered the throne room, since beside two mighty glass stained windows, sat a bold white chair. It was a very nice room, well lit with plush purple carpets and portraits hanging from the walls. Pillars stretched to the ceiling, holding up with their mighty arms. Logan strode up the stairs, sat on the throne with Reaver standing on his right. The guards dispersed one pushing Izzy forward and kicking her to the ground. She landed on her left side trying not damage her right arm any further.

"You will kneel before the king!" shouted the man.

"Oh is Darius here?" she asked, earning another kick in the back. Reaver smiled lightly, impressed that the torture had not broken her spirit. She seemed such a lively thing it would be a shame to put a bullet in her head like the old man.

"You know my brother?" asked Logan, leaning back on the throne, watching the girl struggle to get off the floor. She tried to at least stand at her full height, wincing in pain from the mangled arn.

"Well, you did have me arrested escaping with the guy, you figure it out," she answered, glaring at the guard beside her who kept hitting her. Logan stroked his tuft of beard, staring down at the young woman with interest. Will lines were visible under her torn shirt sleeves, travelling up her neck and framing her heart shaped face.

"You are not Isaac Taylor in which Swift spoke of in his journal then?" questioned the king.

"Yes and no, I'm Isabella Taylor, Isaac was just a disguise,"

"And you are a hero?"

"Apparently so,"

The king looked on the interest amused by the cold blue eyes that sent daggers his way. The young woman before him carefully didn't appear to be related to him in any way. His father had loved Logan's mother dearly, unable to move on after her death. Both of them had been brown eyed and quite angled faces. Beneath the filth and blood, she was soft featured and had blue eyes that burnt with passion. This hero could not be of his bloodline. Could more heroes be running across Albion?

"Who were your parents?" asked Logan.

This time Izzy looked down, opening her mouth for a moment before shaking her head. She looked up staring the king in the eye once again, refusing to let him get to her.

"People I vaguely remember and would rather not tell you about," she answered, receiving another hit.

Logan leaned forward staring at the new hero, how her gaze didn't waver, how she stood boldly in front of him without one sliver of fear. How noble. However, that nobility seemed to falter after a few hours being tortured. Three people were dead, brutally slaughtered by this 'hero'.

"You killed Rake," he stated.

A thin smile stretched over the young woman's lips, remembering the moment she pulled out her abusers heart. It had been the most satisfying thing since coming to this world. A strange red glint entered her eyes before swiftly disappearing as if it were never there.

"Shame I know, we were becoming such close friends until the torture happened," replied Izzy, getting another hit on the back of the head.

"Seriously, stop doing that, I'm just answering the question," she snapped at the guard, who raised his hand again only for the king to hold up a hand.

"And you set fire to the garden,"

"The hedges needed trimming,"

"Do you always answer sarcastically?"

"Only on the days ending in y,"

Reaver banged his cane against the floor in approval, clearly delighted by the rebel's sense of humour. Usually they only yelled about dying in the name of freedom before being gutted. This did make a nice change and kept the carpet clean. The king rubbed his temple watching the hero wince in pain from her twisted arm. They really went all out for this one; usually someone being tortured would only be lashed or burnt by a hot poker. Clearly, this Isabella was in league with Darius who had been gone almost two months after his beloved's death. Whispers were travelling throughout Albion of the rebel prince being a hero. Doing the smallest of tasks in a bid to gain more supporters for an oncoming revolution. That insolent child had a big heart, in touch with emotions and the people. If he truly knew what was coming, who would Darius become afterwards? Within these rumours were more, telling of another hero who bravely fought against the undead and other horrifying creatures.

Logan sighed looking the young woman over. She wasn't very tall, maybe only a few inches beyond five foot. A few scars were littered over her body from battles, telling stories of how she fought and survived. Her hair was short unlike most women he knew, sticking up giving of a boyish appearance. Two ice blue eyes burnt with a mix of emotions all of which stared down any who opposed her. A thin layer of muck and blood coated her pale skin giving off a feral look. Logan tilted his head to the side, a plan forming in his head.

"Take Isabella to a guest room and send a physician for her arm, then the maids to clean her up, treat her like a guest or I'll have your head," ordered the king, watching the hero frown in confusion. Reaver joined in, unsure of Logan's motives. The guards quickly flanked the young woman again and led her out the room.

"Do tell what is going in that scarred head of yours," said Reaver, as soon as the doors were closed.

"The girl is a hero. I cannot kill her without causing a riot of sorts from the peasants. It is not worth it after Swift's death. I have other plans for her," explained the king. The deviant of Albion leaned forward, smiling in a menacing manner.

"Plans, your majesty? Pray do tell?" he asked, only receiving a withering look in return. The pair had an odd relationship with the king listening to his advice on occasions and then completely ignoring it on others.

"I will tell you nothing, only to stay away from the girl. On the night of the ball in a week's time, I will make my intentions clear."

OoooOoooOo

Izzy sat on a plush chair, trying to keep her leg under control as the physician poked and prodded her arm. She had resisted the urge to kick him multiple times, having endured this for more than an hour. At least the torture offered a bit of banter. The physician merely looked at the arm and refused to even meet her eye-line apparently fascinated by the broken bones. He was a balding man, wearing one of those ugly white wigs with the curls to cover up the fact his hair was falling out. Middle age will do that to you, if you didn't accept it, you did everything to fight it.

They had placed her in a room the same size as the resistance map room if not bigger. Purple decorated the room like most of the castle, making the whole ordeal seem softer than it actually was. The walls curved upwards into a dome shape, pretty pictures painted on the ceiling depicting hero battles. The room was largely dominated by a four poster bed that screamed to be jumped on, even though someone would just remake it once more.

"Before you drink the healing potion," began the old man, a wheezing voice coming out his mouth "some of the bones must be reset." He took out a vial of red potion, placing it on the bed side table and a rag. Handing over the rag, he gently rolled up Izzy's sleeve.

"You're going to have bite down on that, your screams will disturb the staff," explained the doctor, placing his hands on the first bone.

"I think I already did that," hissed Izzy, stuffing the cloth in her mouth all the same. The physician worked on the arm making sure all the bones were set right, fearful that if anything went work, the king would shoot him. It was a long and painful process, causing some painful discomfort and occasional, muffled scream from Izzy. Shifting the final bone into place, he handed over the healing potion which she took and gulped down in two mouthfuls.

Although not as bad as the bones being reset, the discomfort has the healing potion putting the bones back together was something she could have done without. Izzy looked down at her arm, seeing the scars work their way up. The stone Rake had used had left a lasting effect, blemishing her skin once again. The arm felt stiff but could be moved without burning pain ripping through her. The doctor left with a look of relief etched onto his face, not bothering to ask how his patient was. Izzy sighed, feeling much better now that her arm was completely healed.

The hazards of being in this world were really beginning to pile up. Gazing around the room, she decided to explore it. Beside the bed sat a large dressing table, holding a mirror which shows the hero how dirty she really was. Everything she wore was either ripped or a little singed. Her face was streaked with mud and blood once again. Izzy turned away a little sad by her reflection, going over to the window and taking in the castle grounds.

They probably used to be very pretty but most of it was a horrible and barren. Burnt branches were alien against the few flourishing plants that had survived the massacre of magic. Gardeners were darting all around the place trying to avoid the nobles who wandered aimlessly though the gardens only to stop and chat for a few minutes. They pulled up the dead trees, forcing its blackened bark out from the earth and dumping it unceremoniously into a wheel barrow. People really worked fast to make sure it looked like no one ever escaped. Izzy leaned against the window, feeling its cool glass on her forehead. Why hell was Logan suddenly treating her so nicely? Being a woman surely wouldn't stop such a tyrant from killing her. This would make Theresa happy though, having one of her little chess pieces back on the board. Although, suddenly treated her nice did raise alarm bells in her head.

A soft knock came from the door pulling Izzy from her thoughts. It opened a little, a blonde head bobbing into view, a maid smiling over at the hero.

"I'm sorry ma'am but the king has ordered for you to scrubbed and dressed for dinner tonight," said the maid, peering nervously from behind the door.

"Dinner?" she asked in a confused manner. Now he was treating her to dinner, what the hell was this guy up to?

The maid nodding again her blonde ringlets bobbing up and down, anxiously clutching the panelled door. Unable to really refuse and not wanting to get the maid in trouble, Izzy nodded. The door swung open, a silver bathtub being pushed in by two burly men who looked her up and down before leaving. The maid darted in, placing a fine purple dress on the bed. She reached forward, hands aimed for Izzy's shirt. The confused hero darted backwards, holding tightly onto her clothes.

"What are you doing?" asked Izzy. The maid flushed red flustered at her charges attitude unsure on how to continue.

"My lady, I have to get you ready," she explained.

"I can undress myself," exclaimed Izzy, tightly holding onto her shirt.

The maid clenched and unclenched her fists shaking a little. The room started to feel a little uncomfortable.

"Bu-but his majesty said I had to tend to you if I d-don't he'll let me go, then all there is for is w-working on the streets, please my lady, please don't." babbled the maid before bursting into tears. Izzy stood there unsure on what to do, the maid just kept crying unable to control herself. The hero reached forward, awkwardly patting her on shoulder.

"Umm, sorry-" said Izzy.

"Angie,"

"Angie, I'm Izzy, I'm not sure how a castle works and I'm used to looking after myself. I'll make sure the King knows you're doing a good job,"

"Thank you miss,"

"I'm going to undress and get in the bath, then once you've calmed down, you do whatever you have to."

Angie cried a little more, letting herself be guided over to the bed taking in deep breathes. The tears kept streaming down, limbs shaking in an uncontrollable manner. The young hero started stripping off her clothes and settling into the warm water, waiting for the maid to calm down. Soon, Angie smoothed out her uniform and began her work. Izzy hadn't been washed like this since her parents were alive. Nor in such a vigorous manner. All sorts of soaps and oils were rubbed into her skin. Hairs were plucked with expert precision it almost became an art form. Although still a little teary, Angie did an excellent job in making sure Izzy was presentable for royalty. While she towel dried herself off, the maid started getting the clothes ready, nervously watching the small clock on the mantelpiece.

"What is this?" asked Izzy, as Angie swiftly became putting on some complex undergarments on her charge.

"That's a corset, Miss,"

"Looks like some elaborate form of torture device,"

"The upper-class women seemed to like them,"

"Upper class women don't work for a living nor chop up bad guys, oh please don't put me in these,"

Izzy held up heels as if they were a medley of disgusting insects covered in slime. Angie placed the corset around the heroes thin frame and began doing the laces up at max speed. Suddenly air began to feel like some form of luxury as the laces began closing in.

"I can find some flat shoes for you Miss, if you're worried about the heels,"

"If you want me to trip all over the place, flats please,"

Corsets were horrible things. They wanted to break people's backs, ribs and stop them breathing all at the same time. Seriously, something in this world needed not to want to break her in some way. Angie led her over to the dressing table beginning to brush out her tangled hair. Izzy sat there shocked unable to recognise the person sitting at the mirror. It was like seeing stranger. Her skin glowed in a beautiful porcelain way, not a pale sickly manner. The make-up applied made them look more mature or womanly, a seductress who knew want she wanted. Her hair brushed beautifully covering up the scar, an aliceband a top the head donned with a few purple flowers. The dress was utterly gorgeous, a deep purple strapless one with matching gloves that reached her upper arms. Izzy could not accept this grow up woman was her. Angie did a few more finishing touches before putting on the flats shoes and hurrying her out the room.

"Come along miss, we don't want to keep his majesty waiting," commented the miad, sounding a little urgent.

A guard outside led the pair down the long hallways, occasionally gazing at the woman beside him. She was regal, carrying herself with pride and trying not to trip over as they went to meet the king. The castle seemed to have long and twisting halls with plenty of useless looking rooms. Izzy tried not to stop and look in, unable to resist nosing in at the tyrants home. She still kept wondering what this was all for, dressing her up, treating her like some lady. The tyrant king did seem to have a strange mind. Soon they arrived outside the dining room, the guard quickly opening the door and ushering her inside before she could even react.

Izzy stumbled in, trying to catch herself before looking like a fool. Pleasant smells wafted around the room. There was one pointlessly long table in the centre of the room. A grandfather clock sat to the left whilst a fireplace to the right which burnt brightly in the darkened room. A few paintings were hung on the purple walls staring down at the scene below. Logan sat at the opposite end of the table, a manservant guiding Izzy to a seat two spaces apart from the king. She couldn't decide if he was attractive or not. He slouched in the dinner seat, greedy brown eyes devouring every inch of her, scarred lips pulled up into a creepy smile. The orange firelight played off his gaunt pale faces, a shadow passing over him.

"You look beautiful," he commented, watching as the manservant pulled out a chair for Izzy.

"Thank you," she answered, staring down at the dinner placement. What the hell was this entire set cutlery for? One of them was long enough to scratch her back, which in the case of the corset would be lovely.

"It is refreshing to see you now as your fair sex, although I congratulate you on your clever disguise," continued the king taking a deep drink from his goblet. Izzy shrugged picking the nearest knife and fork and poking the poached salmon with it as if to check for anything unpleasant. Logan pursed his lips not saying anything.

"I was in barracks, I imagine being a female soldier would not have sat well with the other men," she said, beginning to eat the dinner. Taste exploded in her mouth, a yearning for a decent meal being sated. It was the best thing she'd had so far in this world.

"Do you count yourself as a soldier then?" asked Logan, watching as she began to eat.

"What would you call me doing so far as then? I was in Swift's brigade, I fought alongside men, downed the dead, hobbes and balverines,"

"I would say that was being a hero,"

"So I keep being told,"

"Do you not view yourself as such? The people believe the brave soldier of Mourningwood and my rebel brother are the new hope,"

"I view myself as someone trying to make a difference and save what I hold dear,"

"And what do you hold dear?"

The hero gazed up, heart shaped face flickering in the firelight setting off an aged look and the brief time she had fought in this world reflected in her sharp blue eyes. The scars littered across her body told many tales of battles and fights that a hero must endure.

"I hold my friends dearly; I would've died in order to protect them. I would have given up everything to know they were save and still fighting. They are the closest thing to family and they are worth fighting for," she answered.

The king leaned further back into his dining room chair looking the woman up and down again. Such beauty, such honesty, such pride. What a trophy she would be to have in the royal court. A hero with noble intentions would surely win favour among the masses.

Izzy stopped eating, ignoring her growling stomach calling out for more food. She wasn't used to the rich flavourings that started to make her feel ill. Decent meals were hard to come by since she had converted to nomadic lifestyle. She only knew not to have a meal in the Cock in the Crown. However, those thoughts could be pushed aside for another time. More pressing matters were ahead like figuring out the kings game plan. Whenever Thomas had wanted something, he always acted extra nice in order to manipulate Izzy into doing it. She realised this wasn't much different apart from this time, it was with a king. The question that sat on her tongue could no longer wait.

"Why are you doing this?" she asked, staring him straight in the eye.

The king pushed away his uneaten dinner, fist clenched at the question, eyes averting from her for the first time. Up until this point they had not left her, taking in her new feminine form. His haunted features were more sinister against the blazing fire as the shadows seemed to grow across them. The silence wrapped around the both of them, the tense air growing as the answer was delayed. Finally he spoke.

"Are you not glad I have chosen to spare your life? Cannot not be happy I been merciful, making sure you have ended up like your beloved Swift?" asked Logan, his eye-line unwavering. Izzy's hand wrapped tightly around the knife she held, trying not to dive forward and bury it in the kings heart. Blood would spoil the nice dress she had been given. Plus, some poor servant would also have to clean up the mess.

"No,"

Logan flinched as if he had been struck. No one had spoken to him like this in a long time. Not even Darius would be so bold, fearing his older brother's wrath. But this pretty little woman sat at his table and denied his compassion!

"Then you are ungrateful,"

"No, I am not. I watched as a dear friend was butchered in front of a crowd, I have seen the people in the streets and I have experienced your so called mercy, so don't you dare call me ungrateful,"

The king abruptly stood up, knocking his chair backwards. It clattered onto the ground only to be picked up by the manservant who quickly scurried back into the shadows. A hand was about to be risen in anger only for a fork to be driven through a sleeve and into the table. Logan looked down in fury at the utensil now wedged into the fine wood, stopping him from striking the woman. Such an ungrateful harlot! She didn't know what was coming! What he had seen!? How could her noble addled mind comprehend what was coming for Albion?

Izzy stood up, heart beating against her chest, watching as the king struggled to take out the implanted fork from his fancy clothes. The manservant called for the guards, the purple menaces barging in and aiming rifles at the hero. Logan took out the fork, inspecting the damage. Only a mild tear. He waved the guards off, seeing an orange spark beneath Izzy's glove. He slowly walked over to her impressed that the woman stood her ground although clearly frightened. With all his anger, he could not strike the hero, instead bending forward and kissing her on startled lips. Shock waves echoed through her body, brain kick starting once more and pushing Logan away.

He smiled, standing in front Izzy so she was backed against the wall with no means of escape.

"You will attend the annual summer ball with me next week. There I will announce our engagement. You will provide the love and support I need from the locals and an heir who will become a hero, if not, I will find everything you love and destroy in front of you," he stated, placing down the fork and exiting the room. Izzy watched him leave, a great sense of dread passing over her like a great storm. Could she really escape this?

_**Logan being a big ol' creeper. That's it for that lengthy chapter, we'll be seeing our rebels in the next chapter and maybe some more Reaver. **_


	13. Dancing with the Devil

Chapter Thirteen

Dancing with the Devil

_**Some strong language is coming up ahead so be warned. Thanks for all the nice feedback, you guys are awesome.**_

Ben paced up and down the headquarters whilst Darius was out doing some stupid hero deed for the masses. All they wanted were results; the locals never understood the true sacrifices the rebels were making. He slumped against the wall, wondering off Izzy was doing in the castle. Royals tended to have particularly cruel torturers, barbaric men who would anything to win favour. Nasty stories of the things they would to the prisoners leaked all over the country. Terrified maids recounting tales of blood, screaming and laughter from sadistic men no better than hobbes. How could they just let this happen to another dear friend? It was useless to sit around and wait for the town to come along and announce another execution. But what if they found out Izzy was a woman? Ben dreaded to think what would happen there.

The resistance rebels were told to keep an eye on the distraught captain, making sure he didn't try and slip away. They couldn't afford to lose any more people, not after the capture of the Major and one of the last heroes. All that happened here was sitting and plotting, waiting for the right moment to strike. No one questioned that it might never happen. The belief in their brave leader clouded their eyesight to the point they might as well be blind. Ben inspected his gun, hiding in the sewer tunnels shadows. It would be so easy to overpower this jumped up rebels. But then how would that truly help Izzy or Darius. The captain put the gun away thinking about the first time had met the clumsy hero.

Dressed in strange clothes and an attitude the size of the fort had sparked his interest. At first they were off to a rocky start on the account he kept making off coloured comments and she threatened to shot him. But it was more than. Izzy wasn't some stuck up woman who thought men should bow to her every whim. She did her best to learn, become a soldier, determined to fight for a cause to protect people. How she kept trying to prove herself to be the hero everyone kept talking about. Never backing down even when the odds were against her. Ben smiled lightly hoping that when they found and brought her back, it would be the same. She would insult him, they would laugh and all would be well again.

"Keep dreaming Finn," muttered the Captain, knowing his luck with people. He would be lucky if Izzy came back sane. There's no telling what form of torture they were using on the poor girl. The hidden rebel door opened, the princes red head poking inside and searching the tunnel. His eyes zeroed in on the depressed looking Captain.

"Ben, I have news on Izzy's rescue," exclaimed the prince, a broad smile etched on his handsome face.

"And what would that be?" asked Ben, not feeling the same happy mood as Darius.

"I talked to an employee at the castle, works in the kitchen and feeds the resistance any information they can,"

"Goody for them,"

"Oh shut up and listen. A prisoner escaped from the lower part of the castle and set fire to the garden with magic,"

Ben stood up against the wall, a wave of hope washing over him as Darius smiled like a loon. The captain was about ready to kiss the prince if more good news slipped passed his lips.

"Izzy is safe then she could out!?" asked Ben. The prince's smile dipped a little.

"Well, no, Logan caught her again but didn't throw her back the dungeon. According to the kitchen worker, a maid was sent to help a new guest of the kings who will be revealed at the summer ball in a weeks time,"

"So they can't feed the people but they can throw a fancy ball?"

"Ben, concentrate,"

"Sorry, so you think the maid so referring to Izzy"

"Yes,"

"How do you know?"

"Apparently the woman kept answering questions with sarcastic remarks,"

"Izzy's alive!"

Darius nodded, pulling out a thin piece of parchment and laying it on the ground. It was a detailed map of the castle, citing everything from the dungeons to the attic. A few rebels gazed over at the two plotting men, quickly notifying their leader.

"I know the castle like the back of my hand; I've attended these summer balls all my life. Security will be at its all-time high," explained the prince, going over the elegantly draw map of the castle.

"Well, we do like a challenge,"

"Walter is currently trying to get a means for escape. For the moment we must plan the moment to strike,"

"And how do we do that,"

"All the guests will be in the ballroom around ten, usually after drinks and dancing, then any announcements will be done then. The easiest way of entry will be this window," said Darius, pointing at a window in the front part of the castle "and there will be two guards just here, one of us needs to go in and grab Izzy, the staff on our side as agreed to position her beside the window to make a quicker escape."

Ben stared thoughtfully at the map, starting feel a flurry of hope he thought had died a few days back. As long as she was alive and well, that was all that mattered. Although he didn't like the sound of what the king had planned for Izzy.

"I'll climb up and get her out," said Ben. Darius raised an uncertain eyebrow.

"You're the crowned prince entering a ball full of people who will recognise you, I'm the lower class, they will blank me straight away," explained the captain "I think it's engraved in their souls."

"If they have any,"

The duo laughed earning a few glares from the rebels. Page had come to trust Darius but Ben was another case. Maybe it was the remarks about how a good roll in the hay would lighten her mood that caused the rebel leader to dislike the captain. Now she believed he had dragged down the whole operation going to save Izzy. Stuck up bitch.

"We will get her out. No one gets left behind," promised the Prince, holding out his hand. The captain took it smiling proudly at the man.

"Let's go rescue a hero,"

OoooOOOooOO

The guards made sure she remained in the room, forbidden to go outside or even open a window without the king's permission. If magic was used, they wouldn't hesitate to shot on sight. Izzy lay across the bed, bored with reading and jumping up and down on the plush mattress. Troubled thoughts bounced inside her head, thinking about the weird night before with the king. Marry? In this world she was probably considered a spinster but to hell with marrying a crazy, tyrant king. What did royalty do all day other than raise taxes and sit about on a throne? A chill ran down her spine realising if no one rescued her, she'd have to share a bed with the scarred king.

"Over my dead body," muttered the hero, picking a hair brush and beginning to spar with it.

She cast her mind to Ben, wondering what the Captain was doing in her absence. Had they given up? Let her be claimed by the crazed King? Continue the quest and hope they could reach her in time. Izzy's heart sank as she let these thoughts run wild. When she had been Thomas, the relationship had sweet at first but slowly over the years it turned sour. Back in that world, she had been desperate to keep a hold of anything resembling a family. She would make things cushy for Thomas by being the only with a job while he stayed at home playing endless video games. Forgiving him when he did something wrong like cheat or take money from her. How she used to bow to his every whim in order to keep the pretence of happiness. That entire relationship was based on lies and cruelty. What if he could see her now?

Being in this world met finally taken charge of herself. Although Izzy was already abrasive and sarcastic, she would never have inflicted it on Thomas. Now she wanted to go back into that world, kick on the street and tell him to fuck off. The bastard probably hadn't even reported her missing yet after a month of no show. Not that there was anyone in that world that would miss her.

"Did I really belong there?" she questioned out loud, walking over the windows. The guards outside shifted uncomfortably, keeping an eye on the wayward hero locked in the room like a caged bird. Albion was beautiful and terrifying. London had its risks but they didn't include mythical creatures. It wasn't exactly like she'd walk through Hammersmith and Edward Cullen would pop up. If he did she would have probably kicked him in the nether regions.

Here was just as a real as London, a different reality stacked up against another. Were there other windows? Other worlds where other stories existed like ordinary people?

"I am over thinking this," Izzy stated starting to get bored with her own company. The maids would check in on occasion carrying food or asking if she needed anything. The incident at dinner had set the Kings mood into an all-time foulness which reflected back on the staff and people. Of course, the story was spread across the castle reaching those in Bowerstone, talking of the hero who defended herself against the King with ought but a fork. It gave off an odd sense of hope. Heroes were back and maybe they would save the suffering people.

Izzy sat by the window, thinking about the few weeks she'd been thrown into Albion. Theresa was remaining quiet again, barely a whisper from the blind seer, only appearing when she had done wrong. Izzy still wasn't really clear on what her destiny was or what she had to do. Theresa had been very vague and explained very little making her possibly one of the worst guides to a magical realm. The doors opened at the end of the room, making the hero jump into a defensive stance before seeing who entered. Of course, Reaver. Everyone else in the castle knocked except this guy. Izzy was pretty sure he only thought doors were there to inconvenience him.

"Bonjour mon belle fleur, my, my, you actually look vaguely womanly today, what luck," said the obnoxious businessman, smiling over at the hero who merely glared in return.

"I am not your beautiful flower, you creeper," she answered back, a few scratches on GCSE French helping her translate what Reaver had said.

"And she know foreign languages to, are there no end to your talents?" proclaimed the supposed Hero. One of the books that had been given to Izzy was a detailed account of how Darius and Logan's father became the king. Rising from a pauper to hero then being made the monarch seemed a nice way to go about things. Some crazy bastard over thirty years ago tried raising a massive power and killing thousands of people in the process. The hero named Sparrow rose from a supposed death when he was a child and gained three allies to bring down this tyrant. A hero of strength, will and skill each needed in taking down the madman.

According to the book, Reaver had been one of these people, although he still possessed a youthful appearance. Izzy knew that was probably done through unholy means.

"What are you doing here?" she asked, interrupting her own thoughts.

"The king wishes to see you, since I was heading that way, I thought to pick you up myself," stated the businessman, looking at his finely trimmed nails in boredom.

"Pick me up? I'm not some child to be carted around on other peoples whims," she answered.

"I'm afraid if you don't come willingly, I will drag you there myself,"

"I'd like to see you try,"

"Would you?"

"Yes, gives me a good excuse to punch you on the nose,"

Reaver laughed, amused by the young woman's fire. Not two days ago had she been caught trying to escape the castle after knocking out a guard, making it half way before someone noticed and marched her promptly back to the room. They were lucky since the castle was in preparation for the summer ball which took place in three day's time. For this, the company of a dance and royal etiquette teacher was forced upon Izzy. As usual, failure to comply would result in her death. Although after the escape attempt, the poor guard she stole the uniform from was shot in the courtyard right outside her window. The king truly did know how to drive a point in.

"My dear, I doubt you could lay a scratch on me," he said.

"Wanna bet?"

"Know, I believe it's 'want to bet'. The king clearly is wasting time on trying to stop you speaking like some common whore,"

"Better a whore than a conniving cunt,"

Reaver smirked raising his cane and aiming a hit at the woman before him, who merely jumped back gracefully and gazed at him in a bored manner.

"Is that all you've got?" she asked, smiling lightly.

"I hate to pull out my gun and shot you here, my business empire might come to an end, come to the king with me or at gunpoint, I don't care neither way,"

Izzy sighed, knowing that Reaver would shot her without any hesitation. Slipping on her flats, she ignored the despicable hero's outstretched arm and left the room. Shaking his head, he joined the stubborn hero down the corridor, quite happy to stay in silence.

The guards didn't follow, knowing the kings businessman would get annoyed and just shot them. The woman didn't have a chance of escape with that man anyway. Servants scurried by, not looking the duo in the eye, afraid of catching the marksman's gaze. Angie saw Izzy's slight form move through the castle from her position of cleaning, becoming worried from the young hero. When Reaver offered to escort someone, he was usually up to something devious. They walked towards the king's study only for Izzy to become distracted, staring up at a painting. The former hero of skill took a few moments to notice his walking companion was no longer with him.

"What are you stopping for?" he demanded, walking back. She didn't answer, continuing to stare as he hadn't said anything. Becoming more annoyed, he gazed up at the picture she was so engrossed in. The royal family portrait. King Sparrow, standing proudly at the head of the family, his massive hands on a young Logan's shoulders whilst a pretty blonde woman held the infant Darius all beamed out from the frame.

"Hmph, I remember their wedding, beautiful ceremony, managed to sleep with most the party goers" began Reaver, staring at the smiling Elena, a sweet noble woman who managed to enchant the king, "She loved how he sacrificed everything in order to bring back the people who had died at the spire, including her brother. I wasn't best man, tried convincing Sparrow to explore before settling down. Didn't listen, the fool."

"He wanted something to make up for everything he had lost," stated Izzy, noting how the artist managed to balance out the happiness and sadness in former kings eyes.

"I don't see how having a couple of brats and nagging wife supplements that,"

"You wouldn't,"

"Pray tell what you mean,"

"You're a selfish man. Whatever spark of humanity you used to have is gone. You have lived beyond most and paid the price of losing who you were. Loss is just another human thing you've forgotten about."

Izzy started to walk away, knowing vaguely which direction the kings study was. The agitated, older hero hurried over to her, glaring all the way.

"What would you know about loss?"

"Enough,"

"Why do all you heroes have to be such tortured souls? Things happen, people die and there's nothing you can do about it."

She sighed, staring at him in a mournful manner. Was that pity? He had seen many things in a person's eyes, mostly before he shot them but no one had ever shown him pity. What a disgusting emotion, why should anyone pity him?

"I dislike the look you're giving me right," he said, standing outside the kings study door and looming over the younger hero.

"Get used to it," she answered back, tapping the door. A weathered butler answered the door, gazing closely at the new comers.

"Mr Reaver and Miss Isabella to see you, your majesty," he wheezed, standing beside the door once more. They entered, seeing the king bent over at his desk, writing furiously.

"I don't recall asking for your presence, Reaver," said Logan, not looking up from his work. Albion's deviant bowed, smiling faintly as he stood up straight.

"Apologises but I have the pressing matter of the summer ball to discuss with you," he answered.

"Can it not wait? I have to personally see how Isabella's dancing lessons have come along, unless you would like to do it in my stead," said the king, putting down his quill.

"No thank you, your majesty," said Reaver, having witnessed Izzy's balance mishaps moments. It was odd to find such a person who could both be graceful and clumsy at the same time.

"I only wished to know where you would like the musicians. After all it is for the king to decide what happens at the ball,"

"Put them beside the garden windows as always, out of the way in the higher corner,"

"As you wish,"

Izzy knew the deviant had more to ask but didn't want to say it in front of her. He turned, beginning to walk towards the door, pausing beside her. Logan had his back turned, fiddling with a phonograph in the corner. Reaver leaned forward, lips lightly brushing against her ear. She was highly annoyed at this but her pale skin began to blush furiously.

"Good luck. You'll need it," he whispered, before lightly kissing her cheek and walking away.

"I hate that guy," she grumbled.

The king turned around, a slow melody beginning to crackle out the old fashioned music player. Well, it was old-fashioned to her, for the people of Albion; a phonograph was the height of technology. It was a pleasant, soft tune that let a steady beat.

"Show me what you have learnt," said Logan, holding out his gloved hand. Izzy pouted but took it anyway, trying to keep some distance between them. She had been forced to come to his study each day for about two hours to recite what she had learnt that day. The dancing was the most annoying part of this, since she lacked any form of coordination. There were always a few sore toes at the end of the day. The king would rarely say anything, apart ask questions and scowl if she didn't answer to his satisfaction. Nobles kept invading the castle in an effort to get a glimpse at the mysterious hero woman rumoured to have won Logan's heart. If he had one.

"No, Isabella, left foot forward," commanded Logan, twirling her around. The hero ignored the use of her full name, not wanting to anger the unstable monarch further. During the first dance lesson with him, she had annoyed him so much that he took it out on the staff by having the cook whipped for slightly burning the dinner. Not wanting to cause any more trouble, she stuck to keeping her mouth shut and hoping someone would save her. She hated thinking like that, becoming some docile maiden that needed to be rescued from the cruel tyrant. But that's how it was and she had to endure it.

"You have improved," sniffed the king, holding her waist tighter.

"Well, after getting up at six in the morning to practise for three hours will do that," she answered back, trying to keep the venom from her voice.

"Do you still resent me?" he enquired, lifting her by the waist and gracefully placing her back on the floor. There was a good foot and a half difference between the pair, so Izzy was able to disguise her disgusted eyes.

"How could I resent a man who is keeping in a castle against my will, killed my friends and is forcing me to marry him?" she retorted, allowing herself to curl towards his arm.

"I do this for the good of my country,"

"Does locking away women count towards good?"

"If it means peace among the lower classes then yes,"

The music stopped, they stepped apart and bowed, Izzy fighting the temptation to strike the king. Logan looked up, eyes meeting hers, completely unguarded for one brief moment. Then she saw. The same thing fixed in the old kings eyes. A sense of loss, sadness and self-hatred. It was quickly replaced with the mask of indifference Logan always wore. For a brief second, Logan looked more than just a tyrant king. He looked like a terrified, desperate man.

"Why did you change? What happened in Aurora?" she ventured out, knowing she would be the on punished for such questions. It was a spare of the moment thing but it nagged at her to be asked. Logan tensed for a moment, turning his back towards her.

"And how do you know this?"

"Darius told me. Actually, he told me a lot,"

"How much is 'a lot'?"

"Enough to know when the time comes, he will forgive you,"

The lost king stared at the bookcase before him, thinking over the terrible things he had done and would do. Izzy was a quick fix in keeping the masses quiet for a while until the issues would crop up again. A royal wedding just to gloss over the monstrous acts he had committed. What fool would forgive that?

"I will save this kingdom even if I have to destroy myself," he said.

"Save it from what?" asked the young hero, scratching her head in confusion. A lot of the time, Logan spoke in half sentences that never really went anywhere. They just hinted at a darker nature, something the king was too afraid to talk about.

"You wouldn't understand,"

"Try me! Jeez, maybe if you actually talked to someone instead of burying it away, it wouldn't be so bad!"

"This is not something for you,"

"Oh stop dodging the fucking issue; you act like you carry a massive burden. Maybe you do, I don't know but let someone else shoulder it instead of doing it all by yourself!"

"I will not be spoken to like this!"

Logan smashed his fist against the nearby table, making Izzy jump. His fury leaked through the room, its thirst unquenchable. He turned on his heel, strode over to the short hero and grabbed her wrists. Face inches away from hers, he poured all the fury in his eyes into her.

"Don't ever talk about this again! You have no idea! When we are married I expect an obedient wife, one who will follow me into the darkness!"

Izzy stared coldly at him, not giving away an inch of fear, she would give him the satisfaction of knowing how terrified she truly was.

"All you will get is a Hero," she answered back calmly, before wrenching her arms out of his grip.

"I will escape here, I will not be your bitch or anyone else's, I am my own and bully me all you like because you will never win,"

An angry hand struck out. It landed on her cheek, furiously sending her onto the plush carpet. Dots darted in front of her eyes whilst the stinging sensation began to settle in. Without another word, the king left the study without looking back once.

_**See, I know Logan does the terrible things because he doesn't see another option. I also wanted to explore the toll it was having on his mental state, so most the chapter was him second guessing himself a lot. Anyway thanks for reading. Till next time. **_


End file.
